


Those songs we sung, those words we flung

by persephonesprince



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, inhuman!jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 101
Words: 179,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephonesprince/pseuds/persephonesprince
Summary: After the mountain top, Jaskier keeps running into witchers. The other witchers of Kaer Morhen decide that if Geralt can't be nice to Jaskier, then they will have to take care of him themselves.[Chapter titles from The Amazing Devil songs]
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3471
Kudos: 3046





	1. I’m no longer filled with wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier runs into another witcher after the fight at the mountain top.

Jaskier had possibly had too much to drink. He would definitely blame the alcohol for the way he marched (not staggered) up to the man sitting in the corner of the car and confronted him after he had finished his latest set with another impassioned performance of _Her Sweet Kiss_ that had him closer to tears then he would have liked.

The man was sitting in the corner, back against the wall, swords beside him, and cat eyes watching the room warily as he drank. His dark hair seemed to be free of the usual monster guts that a certain witcher Jaskier was pretending he had never met had seemed to roll around in almost daily, but there was still no reason for witchers to be popping up all over the bloody place when all the bard wanted was to pretend he hadn’t spent the last however many years trailing after one like a lovesick puppy.

“Are you people multiplying or something?” Jaskier said, leaning heavily on the table in front of the witcher. “I thought you were meant to be a dying species or some rubbish. Rather detracts from the mystery if one keeps stumbling into you at every bloody inn in the continent.”

The man looked at him in disbelief. “Who the hell have you been running into? I doubt any of my brothers would put up with a drunk like you,” he snarled at the bard. Jaskier grinned at the idea that he would be put off by a little lip from a witcher. They were so predictable with the intimidating faces and the grumpy voices, they reminded him of cute little hedgehogs with their bristly personalities.

“Oho, nice to see the attitude comes with the scary face,” Jaskier snarked back, flopping into a chair next to him. “You’re darling brother Geralt, the one with all the angst and broodiness and annoyingly perfect hair didn’t tell me he had family in the area. So sweetheart, what’s your name? Got any stories for a poor, starving bard?” He fluttered his eyelashes at the witcher in what he was sure was a charming fashion, mentally cursing himself for falling back into old habits.

Witchers were not fun to flirt with, gods damn it, and he needed to remember that before he got his heart broken again. It didn’t matter if they were all adorable with their big muscles and heartbreaking fear of rejection. Jaskier was going to resist the urge to cuddle all of the witchers close and give them the attention they were so obviously starved for, as soon as he sobered up.

“So you’re the fucking bard he was hanging around with the last few years. Name’s Lambert. Have to say, your little song has definitely made that Path a damn sight easier. I’ve only been chased out of three towns this season.” Jaskier preened at the compliment, patting Lambert’s shoulder before he remembered himself and sat up straighter in his chair.

“Well, apparently I live to please the Witchers of this world. No, no, sorry I ... what did he say ... it's always me shoveling the shit that is your lives.”

Lambert thunked his head down onto the table, scaring some of the other patrons in the bar. Jaskier smiled at them reassuringly (he thought anyway) as they moved further away from the scary looking witcher acting like a person with feelings instead of some hulking menace in the corner.

“Really, you are the issue in his life? He does realise that he can shovel shit just fine all on his own, doesn’t he? A pretty little thing like you, there’s no way you are adding to his problems unless he’s having to chase the local girls away.” Lambert looked at Jaskier exasperatedly. How dare this adorable little puppy of a witcher come here and say all these nice things to him. Jaskier had made up his mind, no more witchers, but here he was, ready to get sucked back in again.

“Thank you, for the vote of confidence there but no, I am the cause of all bad things in his life. It would never in a million years be that bloody sorceress with the stupid purple eyes and the freaky magic. Who even has purple eyes? Crazy, dangerous, people, thats who!”

“The fuck! Please, tell me your joking. He’s getting his dick wet with a fucking sorceress! Ok, little lark, there is no way any of this is your fault.” Labert said reassuringly, laying a rather large hand over Jaskier’s. “That big idiot brother of mine is beyond your help if he’s fucking a witch. He was always easily led by his dick, I guess we expected too much of him to realise that witches are never a good idea. Guess I am going to have to adopt the little bard for the rest of the season.”

“Whoah, hang on,” Jaskier protested. “I don’t need adopting. I am perfectly fine on my own. I don’t need to be shoveling shit for anyone else.” He tried to pull himself together, to be Jaskier the bard, singer of amazing songs and traveller extraordinaire. Instead, he was sure he looked like a sad little kitten begging for a home.

Damn all that ale, it's not like it blocked out those words that kept bouncing around in this head anyway. He knew he was too much for people to deal with, there was no point in letting himself get attached to another witcher just to go down the same route all over again.

“See, that right there is why you’re coming with me. Don’t worry, I’m not an asshole like Geralt. I bet he didn't even let you ride on that monster he calls a horse.” Lambert joked, wincing when he saw Jaskier’s sad face.

“Well, no but..”

“No buts, you can come with me for the rest of the season. Can’t have the bard that gets us all paid drinking himself to death because the White Wolf of Rivia is a huge cock. And while we are on the Path, you can write a song about me instead of that asshole, show the world what a real hero is like.”

Lambert dropped a few coins on the table, grabbed his swords and started hauling Jaskier outside with a surprisingly gentle grip on his arm. The bard flailed pathetically, pulling a face at the townspeople who averted their eyes from the big scary witcher hauling him away. They were all too happy to enjoy his songs five minutes ago, but no one wanted to mess with a witcher.

“Only if you give me actual details about your hunts, none of that ‘it was big and had claws, Jaskier, what more do you want from me,’ shit.” He was still pissed about that. How was he meant to write amazing songs about his heroics feats with that kind of information. “He didn't even mention that fact it had bloody wings, here I am imagining some random beastie, as he holds out details on gods damned griffin hunt. How dare he!”

“‘Big and had claws,’ for fucks sake my brother is complete fucking bastard.” Lambert chuckled as he lead Jaskier out to his horse. “No no little lark, if you are going to make me the most heroic witcher in all the lands, I need equally terrifying monsters to defeat.”

Lambert strapped his swords to his back and swung up into the saddle before offering Jaskier his hand. Jaskier pretending to consider the offer, trying desperately not to let his absolute glee at starting out on a new adventure show on his face. This time would be different, he would make sure he wasn’t a pest this time. And when it was time for them to part ways, he would move on to the next great adventure.

_Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days it's you, shoveling it._

No, this time he would be smart, he would keep his heart out of it, and he would appreciate all the excitement of the Path. There would be no getting overly attached. He was a different man from the one who had stood on the top of that mountain and accepted the words thrown at him without complaint. He would not take the blame for another’s choices, not this time.

Jaskier clasped the hand offered to him and was pulled up onto the horse to sit in front of Lambert. The man’s arms caged him in and he relaxed back into the chest behind him, hiding a grin at the instinctive flinch he felt the witcher give at the close contact before he almost melted around the bard’s back. “I could always write a song about the extremely humble witcher who never brags about his exploits at all.”

“Haha, where’s the fun in that. If I have to be a monster, I might as well show the world exactly how monstrous I am. Have to do something to impress the ladies, right?” Lambert said, directing the horse away from the inn and off towards the road.

Maybe all Jaksier needed was a new adventure to get him out of his slump. At least along the way he could continue to spread the word of the heroic witchers and remove some of the stigma that followed them. Witcher’s deserved all the nice things in this world, and by Melitele he would make sure they got them.

He started humming a tune to himself before turning his head and asking “what's the most exciting hunt you’ve been on yet? I need something good if I’m going to be singing of the Dark Wolf of Kaer Morhen?”

Lambert chuckled at the name. “How about the time I had to break a curse on a princess? Idiot parents had pissed off a local witch and then acted surprised when she bit back.”

“Fantastic. And if the witch in the song resembles a certain person we won't name, well then isn't it coincidental if certain people see themselves in evil, nasty, ugly, man stealing crones?”

Lambert’s laughter was almost a bark in the still air, as if it had been surprised out of him. Jaskier smirked to himself and started thinking of rhymes for “dark haired harlot.”


	2. I promise you, they’ll sing of every time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Lambert continue on their adventures. Lambert struggles with the concept of people being nice to him.

Jaskier smiled across the inn at the sight of Lambert slinking into his line of sight and giving him a brief nod as he finished singing _The Dark Wolf's Princess_ to raucous applause. Jaskier ran a quick eye over his witcher. There were a few places where his gambeson seemed to have been torn, but he seemed to be moving alright so it couldn’t be anything too concerning. Nothing that Jaskier couldn’t take care of, provided Lambert actually let him help rather than sulking and making a big fuss out of any attention.

"My apologies, dear friends. My daring witcher companion here wants to get back on the road. Monsters to kill, princesses to save, you know how it is." Jaskier bowed dramatically as Lambert gathered their things, accepted the coins pressed into his hands by smitten women and would-be-princesses with a bemused face, and stalked out the door stiffly.

Jaskier bit back the quick sting of rejection as Lambert moved silently to the horse. Maybe the witcher was just a bit tired from the hunt. There was no way that Jaskier had annoyed him already, had he? He would just have to cheer his witcher up then, there was no point letting him stew in his bad mood.

"Is the wicked beastie killed then, oh valiant defender of the people?" Jaskier asked cheekily, bouncing around Lambert like a small child. He let out an undignified squawk as Lambert started pushing him up onto the horse with no warning, a hard hand shoving at his ass to get him moving faster. “The hell is this, Lambert? You haven’t even bought me a drink yet! You went off to kill a kikimore, why the rush to leave? Did you not kill it or something?”

“No, but we need to get moving. You’re riding and I’ll run alongside. That way if a certain alderman with a broken nose comes after us, you have a fresher horse to ride and I can deal with their bullshit without worrying about your lazy ass being in the way.” Lambert grunted, leading the horse quickly out of town and settling into a brisk jog.

Jaskier thought he saw a wince on the witcher’s face out of the corner of his eye as the man settled into his stride, but was distracted by the urgency in his voice. “A broken nose.. For the love of all things holy, what did you do Lambert?” he said in a voice that reminded him horribly of his mother. Not that he was thinking about her again, no way, no how.

Lambert swore under his breath before looking up at the bard’s accusing face. “He didn’t want to pay me properly. Fucker said there was just the one, and then got shitty when I told him the price doubled after I had to kill four of the bastards.” he muttered sullenly. He looked like a small child being admonished for playing in the mud, not a powerful warrior who had just killed several monsters. The poor darling didn’t even know how his expression was breaking the bard’s heart. Well, there may be a small song circulating in the back of Jaskier’s head about the alderman from Lindenvale with a cock the size of a nail, or something else to show just what happened to those who cheated his witchers.

“I thought we talked about this, we use our words, not our fists. How am I meant to convince the world that you witchers deserve fair pay and all the love us mere mortals can shower on you when you insist on acting like you were raised by.. By..”

“Wolves?”

“Don’t you try and get smart with me. I had that town eating out of my hand, Lambert. Words, not fists.” Jaskier laughed, trying to maintain an air of authority.

“Don’t get your frilly knickers in a bunch, I gave him plenty of words as well as a good fist to the nose. Got the money too, so now we just need to get a decent distance before we make camp. Just far enough that the rabble get bored chasing us.” Lambert sighed, looking down at his feet as he ran. ”This isn't the first time I’ve been run out of town, little lark.”

“I know darling, but you shouldn’t have to put up with that.” Jaskier said, resting a hand on the top of Lambert’s head for a moment as he ran. Why the devil did all witchers have such soft, silky hair? Were monster guts really good as soap? He shuddered at the thought. “That’s the whole reason for the songs, so you get little extras like you did from the very grateful people today and then you don’t have to go around punching noses in for a few measly coppers.”

“I wasn’t expecting that. People usually run the other way after a hunt, they don’t hang about like I’ve seen the village girls doing after your performances.” Lambert looked up at him defensively. He could see the man retreating before his eyes, shoulders rounding like he expected someone to hit him, the weariness in his eyes.

“Dear heart, those girls could be hanging off of you in the same way if you would just..”

“I know, I know, words not fists.” Lambert sighed.

“I was going to say talked to them rather than snarling in a corner like a bear with a sore foot, but I’m glad to see that someone is finally listening to my words of wisdom,” the bard teased, pushing Lambert’s hair back from his forehead before his hand was batted away.

“Yea, yea. How do you know I haven’t been getting laid every night on the Path before you came along, hmm bard? Have you thought that maybe you were the one ruining my game?” Lambert snarled, that angry note in his voice creeping back in.

Jaskier sighed, he had thought they were past all of the snapping and the snarling by now but apparently it took longer than a month and a bit to convince these darling witchers that they were worthy of more than a quick fuck at the local brothel and a boot out the door soon after.

“Darling, no one who panics the same way you do whenever someone touches you in a nonviolent manner has been getting the attention they deserve. It seems it is my heroic duty to be the trailblazer who proves that witchers need hugs too. I shall continue to sacrifice my time and energy into proving that you are the adorable little puppies who need all of the love and affection.”

Jaskier flung himself off of the horse at Lambert as he finished his impassioned speech complete with dramatic sweeping gestures to the imaginary audience around him. The man swore and scrambled to catch him, growling at the bard’s theatrics.

“Gods dammit bard, you’re going to get yourself killed with a stunt like that. I should leave you here and let you break your neck the next time you decide to launch yourself off of a moving horse.” Lambert hissed, pulling the horse to a stop by the reins and dropping the smaller man to his feet.

_If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off of my hands._

Jaskier sunk in on himself. Of course the witcher wouldn’t want to deal with his shit. He was stupid to think that anyone wanted to deal with him when he got like this. He had just wanted to cheer his friend up, but as usual he had made a mess of things. Shoveling shit once again.

“Sorry, I, umm, I can be less... you know... me, if it’s too much. I promise, I can be a silent travelling companion. You would never even know I was here.” Just please don’t leave me here.

“Ugh, fuck. No, you’re not a pain in the ass, Jaskier. You know I don’t mean it like that. Come on, get back on the horse and you can sing your song about how amazing I am. Then I can tell you about this kikimore and you can think up some more pretty songs to throw in that asshole bard you keep talking about’s face.” Lambert said gently, using a large, scarred hand to tilt the bard’s face so he was staring into his eyes. He could see the witcher struggling with his words, it’s not like they were taught how to talk about their feelings in little-baby-witcher school or anything.

Jaskier grinned and hauled himself back into the saddle, pulling his lute from its case and strumming the opening lines of “The Dark Wolf and the Princess” to relax his witcher. He heard Lambert give a sigh of relief at the change of tone, he knew how much it meant that his witcher had talked about emotions at all instead of just grunting at him and carrying on. He would let the matter drop for now and enjoy the fact that Lambert cared enough to try and reassure him. He wouldn’t let the past stop him from enjoying this new adventure.

“Only because you asked nicely, don’t think I’ve forgotten that you are the reason we aren’t sleeping in real beds tonight, Mister I-punch-people-when-I-don’t-get-my-way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise more witchers will be joining in the near future, Lambert was just being greedy and keeping Jaskier to himself. He will have to learn to share with others soon.


	3. Goodbye to all my darkness, there's nothing here but light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Lambert camp after leaving Lindenvale and Jaskier makes a new friend.

Jaskier walked back to their campsite to see Lambert guilty tucking the edge of something green into his shirt. The darling witcher had pushed the hard leaving Lindenvale and only agreed to stop for the night when Jaskier started complaining that it would be dark soon and besides that he needed to take a little trip by himself into the woods to answer the call of nature. Lambert had finally conceded that it was highly unlikely for the alderman of the town to follow them for several hours just because of a broken nose and started to set up camp while Jaskier wandered a short distance into the woods. 

“Lambert. Darling. Dear heart. Adorable little puppy of a witcher. Why in the name of all of the gods does that look like part of my green doublet?” Jaskier asked, glaring at the man in question. Lambert looked like a spooked deer, frozen in surprise at Jaskier’s reappearance. That in and of itself wasn’t a good sign at all, stupid witchers and their inability to let anyone know when they aren’t fighting fit and ready. 

“Ummm, I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Lambert said, trying to replicate the innocent puppy dog eyes the bard had given him earlier that day when he had drunk the last of their ale. 

“Please tell me you haven’t ruined it,” Jaskier sighed, pulling Lambert’s shirt over his head to look at where he had wound a scrap of Jaskier’s doublet around his waist. He could see blood leaking through it. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“Sorry, I ran out of bandages, and you said you hated this doublet anyway, and you know how disgusting my shirts are, it’s not like I could use one of them and..” 

It was like he could see Lambert regressing to the scared little child he had told him about in hushed whispers around a campfire at night. The poor love was terrified that any weakness would just open him up to more abuse. Jaskier’s heart bleed for him, but he knew that if he mentioned it he would get the cold shoulder for the rest of the night. 

“No, no, darling, I’m more annoyed that you didn’t say anything like the big stoic idiot you are when we have been riding all day to get away from that bloody village as you bleed out.” Jaksier said in a quiet voice as he unwound the tattered doublet from his friend. He could see that the scratches were fairly deep. It was a wonder that Lambert had kept running all afternoon instead of passing out from blood loss. This had to be why the witchers wore black, it hid the blood far too well. “You really need to take more care of yourself. One of these days there isn’t going to be a dashing bard around to nurse you back to health when you end up infected from one of these little scratches.”

How in the name of all the gods was Jaskier meant to deal with the drama of witchers. One would think they would have a little more self preservation but apparently not. It was a wonder any of them had survived without him and he shuddered to think of the condition of all the witchers he had yet to meet.

“It’s fine, Jaskier, just a little scratch from the kikimore. Hell, I’ve had worse scratches from you when you’re in a mood.” Lambert grumbled while simultaneously melting into Jaskier’s touch as he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to patch his witcher back together again. 

“Oh ha ha. Laugh at the bard for being concerned. You could be dying of all sorts of icky things that monster had on its claws. And I do not scratch, you make me sound like a bloody alley cat. I merely express my thoughts through a more physical medium in times of stress,” Jaskier sniffed indignantly. 

“Woah, I thought I was coming over here to help a brother in need, not witness him getting molested by some colourful lapwing.” The voice from the woods had Jaskier falling all over himself as he tried to grab one of Lambert’s swords can hover protectively over him. His elegant gesture of heroism was somewhat hampered by the weight of Lambert’s sword (how the hell did anyone swing these things) and the fact that the voice came from another witcher who came prowling out of the trees to loom over them with a large black horse following. 

“I beg your pardon. I am not molesting this ungrateful brute, I am saving his life as he bleeds out through his own stupidity. And who might you be, sir witcher?” Jaskier asked, ignoring the way that Lambert tried to take the sword back from him. He was defending his poor darling in his hour of need, couldn’t Lambert let him take care of him for two seconds. 

The new witcher smiled shyly and started tying his horse to the same tree as Lambert's mare, trying to hide his amusement at the bard's theatrics. 

Lambert finally yanked the sword from Jaskier’s hands and pulled the bard back down to sit beside him. “Calm down Jaskier, it’s just Eskel. Good to see you brother. The bard here is just panicking over nothing.”

“It is not nothing, Lambert you ass. I can see more of your insides than I wanted to my friend,” Jaksier protested while eyeing up the new witcher. Eskel reminded him a lot of the witcher-he-pretended-not-to-know, only with darker hair and an intriguing scar that went from his mouth to his ear. The poor lad was clearly self conscious, tilting his head to keep it in shadow as much as possible. 

Eskel knelt beside them and gently moved Jaskier out of the way. “Let me take a look, bard. So, you’re the one who was hanging around with Geralt all the time. Should I expect to see him come waltzing out of the woods next?”

“Gods dammit Eskel, be gentle,” Lambert whined.” And no, the White Wolf of Idiocy is too busy sleeping with sorceresses to give a shit about our new friend here. Left him all alone on a mountain with dragons, reavers, and who knows what else. Next time I see that pillock, I am going to introduce his face to my fist. Repeatedly.” 

Eskel looked from Lambert to Jaskier in shock. Jaskier felt the blood pool in his cheeks as he looked away. It’s not like he was completely helpless on that mountain. Nothing touched him, but then again he did leave that mountain in a flood of tears so there was no guarantee that he wasn't making enough pathetic noises to scare away and beasties that would otherwise go after a poor defenseless human like himself. “He what? How stupid is he? Look at the state of the little bard, there’s no way he can defend himself.”

“The _little bard_ is sitting right here and is fully prepared to make you eat your words.” Jaskier snarked sulkily. What was it with witchers treating him like he was made of ceramics? He had survived perfectly fine without them. 

Eskel turned to Jaskier with a rather charming smile on his face. Why did the gods decide that all witchers must also be superhumanly attractive as well as strong? 

“No offence little bard, but our brother is an idiot. You don’t take a civilian out onto the Path and then abandon them. Especially not to chase after some woman, no matter how powerful she is.”

“Yes, well. The past is in the past and all of that. So, is he going to live?” Jaskier asked, gesturing at Lambert as he tried to ignore the tears welling up in his eyes. Why were all of the other witchers so sweet and loving. He had to go and fall... follow the grumpy one who showed less emotion than a rock. 

“He’ll be fine. Give him a few days and he will be as good as new, some scars to show off how heroic he is but I’ve been hearing lots about the heroics of the Dark Wolf, so I’m sure that will fit the image.” Eskel finished whatever magical, witchery business he was doing to fix the gaping holes in Lambert’s side and started wrapping him up with clean bandages from his own pack. 

“Oh, fuck off Eskel.” Lambert grumped, wincing as Eskel pulled the bandages tighter. “Wait till the little lark decides to sing a song about you and see how you like it. You actually get paid more often than not if the village idiots have been singing your praises just before you bring them a monster head.” He shot a proud look to Jaskier, leaving the bard with a warm feeling in his chest and a stupid little smile curling around his mouth. 

“You’re not kidding. I walked into a town that was singing that song, the annoying one about tossing a coin or something,” Jaksier let out a squawk of indignation at that, “and the innkeeper told me I could stay the night for free, didn’t even ask me to get rid of a nekker or anything.” 

“You’re welcome for that _annoying song_. Hmph, see if I ever write one for you,” Jaskier huffed and busied himself digging through their bags for some food for the night. He was sure they had grabbed some.. no wait, that was what he was planning to do before they had to leave Lindenvale as quickly as possible. 

Eskel looked apologetically at Jaskier through his fringe. Gods be good, what was it with these witchers and their adorable little puppy dog faces. He just wanted to run his fingers through the man's hair, possibly trim it so the poor dear could actually see, and take care of him like he deserved. “Aww, I’m sorry little bard. I’ve never heard the original though. I’m sure it's much better when it’s not being mangled by some two-copper bard in a backwater inn.”

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you for that. I’m sure even I would hate it if that buffoon Valdo Marx was singing it. I will just have to treat you to a private concert for the two bravest witchers in the land tonight. You are camping with us tonight, aren’t you Eskel darling?” Jaskier smiled winningly up at the witcher. 

There was no way he was letting this poor disaster of a man out into the wilderness before he had subjected him to copious amounts of cuddling and positive reinforcement. It was a travesty to have such beautiful men out there thinking they were unlovable. And this one was far too sweet and adorable to be alone.

“I thought I was darling!” Lambert protested, trying once more with his puppy dog eyes. Eskel smothered a laugh with his hand, looking at his brother in surprise. 

_That’s right, look what happens when you beautiful, darling witchers get a little bit of the affection you deserve. You’re next dear heart, don’t you worry,_ Jaskier thought to himself smugly. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You are both darling little witchers who are going to set up a camp for the night and go rustle up some of those rabbits I’m sure are jumping about in the woods. Then I can perform a little concert for my two dashing heroes and we can enjoy a peaceful night out under the stars before seeing where the Path takes us tomorrow. Agreed?”

“Geralt was an idiot.” Eskel muttered under his breath as he looked at the bard’s hopeful little face.

“Too fucking right,” Lambert agreed.

“Alright then you two, camping it is. You wait here and look after our wounded hero, I’ll be back with some rabbit in no time.”

“See you soon, darling. Make sure you get enough to feed both of you, I can hear your stomach grumbling from here.” Jaksier called after his retreating back as he started moving Lambert into a more comfortable position to wait for his brother. Having two darling witchers would certainly make life interesting.


	4. It's what's engraved upon my heart in letters deeply worn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his two witchers camp for the night.

Traveling with two witchers had given Jaskier a lot of time to observe them in as natural of a habitat as he was likely to see. 

They had been up late the night before, Lambert almost showing off as he asked for song after song from the bard while Eskel sat entranced as Jaskier sang. The younger man might have shown off just a little, prancing around their little campsite and singing himself hoarse almost. 

When Lambert had asked him to sing  _ Her Sweet Kiss _ with a significant nudge of Eskel's arm when the bard agreed, he had let himself get caught up in the emotion of the song, the matching gleaming cat eyes fixed on his every move not helping him forget the inspiration for the song easily. Eskel had looked so heartbroken when he finished, his soft amber eyes showing the most emotion Jaskier had seen from a witcher yet (he wasn't counting the pain in a certain witcher's eyes on a certain mountaintop) that the bard had sat quietly for a moment before Lambert loudly started asking for "his song" for the eighth time that night. Jaksier had agreed and thrown himself into another rendition of  _ The Dark Wolf and the Princess, _ adding in silly faces and rude gestures to try and cheer up his puppies. Lambert had joined in with a dramatic reenactment of his own heroics, complete with rescuing the fair princess (a bit of rabbit on a spit) and proceeding to snog said princess until Eskel told him to stop playing with his food. 

Jaskier loved seeing this side of Lambert and was determined that one day he would see the others this lighthearted. Ambitious plans for a simple bard, but by the gods was he stubborn and creative enough to make it happen. Phase one seemed to be complete with Lambert, so it was time to figure out what made Eskel tick. 

Eskel had called the little concert to an end when Jaskier almost brained himself on a tree root when he tripped over his own feet. The witchers quick reactions were the only reason he didn't eat dirt and he was quickly dumped onto his bedroll and told to go to sleep before he hurt himself. 

Lambert laughed at the dramatic huff Jaskier gave before he snuggled under the blanket Eskel draped around him. It smelt like the potions that he saw the witchers using from time to time and Jaskier couldn't stop himself from burrowing deeper into it and allowing himself to drift off to sleep with his big scary witchers murmuring to each other over his head.

He had woken the next morning to hear a hushed discussion between the two with Lambert trying to convince Eskel to join them on the Path. He had tried to keep his breathing as even as possible, hoping his puppies were too caught up in their own conversation to notice him eavesdropping.

"You have to help me, I have no idea how the hell he's survived this long on his own. The little idiot seems to be a trouble magnet, I spend as much time keeping his ass out of trouble as I do hunting monsters." 

"Really Lambert, you can't look after one little human? What would Vesemir have to say?"

"Honestly, if I couldn't smell the difference I would think he was cursed or something. You saw the way he tried to save me from you last night, he's ridiculous. I will say though, I've never had it as good as I do traveling with him. No one spits in your ale and you actually get paid more often than not. They even let you have the nice rooms if you stay in an inn, not the lice-infested shitholes we usually get."

"Hmm, well I suppose we can travel together for a while. He seems to have domesticated you quickly enough, he must be something special after all."

"Oh ha ha, asshole. You wait till he starts with the flower crowns and the scented soaps." 

"I had wondered why I wasn't assaulted by your usual aroma when I found you. If he's so amazing, why would Geralt leave him behind?" 

It took everything Jaskier had not to react when all he wanted was to scream and run away from this conversation, but a tiny part of him needed to stay, needed to hear how much Lambert needed and how the witcher felt about his newest travelling companion. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't waiting to hear Lambert say that he had had enough of the bard, but he couldn't deny the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Fucking idiot. From what I've gotten out of the little lark, Geralt fucked up with the sorceress he's been ploughing, got told where to shove his usual 'Geralt knows best for everyone' routine, and decided to take it all out on the bard. Some crap about Jaskier being to blame for all the shit in his life. Asshole probably bottled all his crap up and decided that since the bard won't hit back he was the perfect target to let it all out." 

"And how has the bard been? We both know that when Geralt blows up he can get ... vicious." 

"The poor thing thinks it's his fault. Seems to be terrified of being too much and being left alone. I've been trying to make sure he's ok but... you know I'm not the flowers and feelings type of guy. You've always been the one that makes things better, I need you to fix this one, Eskel. I think Geralt did some real damage here."

"If it means that much to you, of course I'll help. We can travel together for a while and when we find a contract one of us can watch the bard while the other hunts. Might be a bit tight for money but we can make it work." 

"It should be fine, I meant what I said about people paying well with him around. Not only do the people issuing the contract tend to pay well, you get randoms in inns trying to slip coins to you quoting his bloody songs. I've been making enough money to take care of the two of us with coin to spare, not including the money he makes performing. I haven't let him pay for much, he deserves to spend his money on all the pretty little trinkets he buys." 

Eskel smothered laugh as Jaskier rolled over in indignation. "Pretty little trinkets? Well let's see if I give you of the little gifts I had squirelled away. Hmm, Eskel love, I sure hope you are sensible enough to know better than to be rude to your glorious travelling companion. Especially since I hear you've made the foolish decision to help this lughead here keep up with me. " 

That had Eskel bursting out into laughter and one look at Lambert's panicked expression had him losing control completely. Jaskier clapped his hands in delight, enjoying the way Eskel's eyes crinkled delight fully, even as he curved in on himself as if he was trying to hide his laughter. The bard promised himself that he would have to find every opportunity possible to make the witcher laugh until he got to see the wolf comfortable in his own skin. 

“If you two old biddies are quite finished gossiping, I suggest we move on. I expect to spend the night in an inn this time, Lambert darling, so you will have to keep those oversized paws to yourself. Eskel love, I assume I can trust you not to go punching anyone who disagrees with you? You seem to have gotten all of the brains in witcher school, unlike this oversized puppy here,” Jaskier teased, hanging off of Lambert’s arm and shrieking in laughter when the witcher lifted him off of the ground and above his head. 

“I can see why Lambert asked me to travel with you. You do seem to be a handful,” Eskel said with a shy grin. “Come on you two, if his majesty would like a bed, there’s a town a few hours ride to the east. Jaskier, do you want to ride double on Scorpion here?”

Jaskier squirmed until Lambert lowered him gently to the ground before bounding over to throw himself at Eskel. The witcher’s reflexes turned the move into something graceful, and Jaskier preened as he was settled onto the warhorse. “I thought you would never ask, dear heart. See Lambert, most people name their horses, and I’m sure Lady Horsington would appreciate you calling her by name.” 

The witchers shared an exasperated look before collecting their gear and mounting their respective horses. Jaskier waited (im)patiently from his perch on Scorpion, strumming a few chords as he watched his boys. He would have to come up with a suitable name for his new darling, something that captured his gentle nature while also being suitably ferocious. He couldn’t have people taking advantage of his puppies after all. He was sure by the time they reached the next town he would have some ideas for a new song. Who wouldn’t with these two beside them?


	5. I'm the cupid of things that you just didn't get

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and the boys are interrupted on the Path.

Unfortunately for the two dashing witchers Jaskier was travelling with, they were only just arriving at the unnamed village Eskel had mentioned when there was a flash of light and Yennefer of Vengerberg strode out of a portal looking as perfect as ever. 

"Finally, bard. Do you know how annoying it is trying to track you down?" She asked, walking quickly over to him and gesturing in frustration. Her dress was stunning as usual, black vines twining over her body and emphasising her curves rather than hiding them. "Where's Geralt? Is he off on a hunt?" 

"Hello to you too, Yennefer. If you're looking for a quick screw, I am sorry to say I haven't seen him since the whole dragon debacle. So sorry to inconvenience you, have a good time tracking him down and continuing your passionate affair. The pathetic bard will continue on somehow in the absence of your majesty." Jaskier spat, leaning back into Eskel's warmth. 

"What, no, I have no need of Geralt. I bring greetings from our mutual friends, Phillipa and Dijkstra." Yennefer was as abrupt as usual, an impatient look on her face as she hurried through the expected greeting.

Jaskier sighed and dragged a hand down his face. All he wanted was some time with his darling witchers, not more jobs to do. "Oh, for fucks sake! Really, now? Why the hell are you caught up in this?" 

Yennfer sniffed at him, somehow managing to look down her nose at the three of them even as they towered above her on their horses. "I don't think I need to explain myself to you, suffice to say I owe Phillipa a favour and she has requested your presence at a ball being held in Verden. You know what Phillipa is like." 

"How are you caught up in drama with fucking sorceresses, little lark? We thought you were the sensible one here." Lambert asked, ignoring the way Yennefer tried to control the conversation. 

Jaskier smiled at the protectiveness in his darling's voice and leaned back into Eskel behind him on Scorpion in an attempt to settle both of his witchers. He knew they both had issues with sorceresses for different reasons and appreciated the way they worried for him. "Lambert, darling, it's not the sorceresses I'm worried about. You know me, I like to rub elbows with all the fancy lords and ladies, sometimes that means attending certain balls as favours to good friends. I don't suppose we have much time before this ball, do we?" 

"You know how it goes, Jaskier. It took me long enough to find you, we would be portalling into town today so you can attend tomorrow. King Ervyll is already expecting you to play and has offered rooms in his palace, as well as a rush order for you and any... companions you bring with you to be properly outfitted." Yennefer shot both of the witchers an appraising look, making Jaskier bristle protectively. "I must confess, I was expecting you to be in the company of a different witcher. Why the change up?" 

"I am not indulging your need for gossip, Yennefer. I am above such petty matters." He turned a glare on the witchers sniggering at that comment. "I will have to ask my two lovely companions if they would like to join me. Unlike some people, I do not expect those I care for to cater to my every whim."

Lambert and Eskel shared a quick glance before Lambert nodded. "Might as well see how the fancy people live. It might make a nice change. You should know better than to have to ask, Jaskier. Not all witchers are idiots." 

Yennefer shot Lambert an assessing glare. "Maybe not, but it does seem like all witchers think ridiculously loud. Bard, you know that Geralt is an ass. Anything he said to you.." 

"Stay out of my head, witch!" Lambert snarled, moving aggressively towards her. Yennefer sniffed at him dismissively, ignoring the way he bristled further. 

Jasker slid from Scorpion's back, patting Eskel's thigh comfortingly as he moved to stand face to face with Yennefer. "That was below you, Yennefer of Vengerberg. I have earnt the right to keep some parts of my life private. You of all people should know better than to take that right from another." He stared into her lavender eyes, inclining his head when they widened in shock. "We will go to this ball and you will leave that chapter of our lives in the past. In return, we can talk later this evening, bard to sorceress, about our problems with each other and come to an agreement. Fair?" 

Yennefer stared at him a moment longer before nodding sharply and turning back to her portal. "Agreed, but if I hear the damned song about me being a harlot, not even your bodyguards here will be able to find enough of you to bury with that lute. Come along then boys, we have a party to attend." She gestured for them to enter the portal and Jaskier smiled at her sadly before walking straight in. 

He heard his witchers swearing behind him as he stepped through into the courtyard of the palace before they followed him. He turned at the sound of the portal closing behind them and grinned as he saw a serving boy hesitantly approach the sorceress. 

"See to the horses, boy. And you lot, follow me. We don't have a lot of time to get your outfits sorted and given the size of you two, the poor tailor might have a fit if we don't hurry." She strode off towards the palace, leaving the three men to scramble after her with their packs. 

After leading them through several ornate hallways, she brought them to the same rooms Jaskier remembered using the last time he was here. "The tailor is waiting in the sitting room. You two go ahead, I need a word with your bard." Yennefer ordered, waving a hand lazily at the door. 

Jaskier smiled at their wary faces and waved off their concern. The two men were clearly uncomfortable in the palace, trying to maintain as much distance between themselves and all of the trinkets and art that littered the hallways as if they were afraid of breaking something. 

"Go get the tailor started, dear hearts. Tell him to draw up a few designs and I'll be over in just a minute to help finalise any decisions. We can't have the heroic witchers of Kaer Morhen not looking their best at the ball." At this both men went pale and shuffled through the door as if going to their doom. Jaskier suppressed a smirk and turned to face the dark haired woman now lounging across the end of the bed

"Phillipa would like you to keep your ear to the ground tonight, bard. Especially concerning Nilfgaard and Cintra." Yennefer said, twirling a curl of her hair around her finger dismissively.

"Really, Yennefer, is that all she had to say? How bloody obvious, I thought I was here to see what I can learn about the bloody table arrangements." Jaskier stomped around the room angrily before throwing himself into a chair and facing her. He was obviously doing well curating the persona of a harmless social butterfly if Phillip and Dijkstra were treating him like this. He was good at his work, gods be good, and the information he gathered was always accurate and never followed up with a series of suspicious deaths, so why the disrespect?

"Stop pretending to be smart, bard, and just get the job done. I don't want to have to deal with the mood Phillipa will be in if you screw this up. But enough of this, where did you find the two next door? You seem to be witcher catnip." Yennefer fixed him with a lazy grin, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

"Oh ha ha. You're hilarious, really." Jaskier shook his head dismissively. "Lambert and Eskel are good men, they just need someone to show them how to have fun without causing a massacre." 

The sorceress rolled her eyes at him, a strange look on her face. It reminded Jaskier of the way he felt when his boys talked about Geralt, that feeling of missing out on something everyone else seemed to see in someone else. "Speaking of witchers, and this is going to be as much fun for me as it is for you so just let me say this, I just wanted to check that you are alright. Given the way a certain acquaintance of ours reacted when I last saw him, I assume he said some less than pleasant things to you as well. If you wanted to talk about any of it, I'm willing to listen," he said in a gentle voice. It was clear the woman had been hurt by whatever happened on that mountain top, and she was lashing out like a wounded cat. It was far too similar to the way his witchers had been acting, how the hell was he finding himself feeling bad for the bloody sorceress that had barrelled into his life like a hurricane and left devastation in her wake. 

"Really, you think I'm going to open up and share all my deepest darkest secrets with you? You think I want them shared around the Continent in another song about the dark haired harlot from Vengerberg? How stupid do you think I am?" She laughed harshly at him, violet eyes flashing with fire.

Jaskier moved to kneel beside where she was lying on the bed and take her hand in his  
"I apologise for the song, Yennefer. I was angry and hurt at someone else and took it out on you. Can you forgive me?" She held his gaze for a moment then turned away as he caught the sheen of tears in her eyes.

"I should turn you into a toad, you're lucky I'm not in the mood. I suppose we can talk about the delightful conversations Geralt had with us. I must say I am intrigued as to just what he said to make you leave his side. I had thought you two were quite inseparable." 

Jaskier chuckled darkly at that. "Hm, yes I had thought we at least had a ... mutual understanding. Turns out, I was just making everything worse, as usual, and he would prefer it to not have to see my face again. But it's fine, I'm more worried about you, I had thought that you two had some kind of... relationship or scary attractive people's club thing going on." 

"It was that bloody djinn. Apparently his wish was about our relationship, and I refuse to be with someone and not know if their feelings are true or manufactured by magic." She dashed the tears from her eyes, magic crackling in the air around her and making the hair on Jaskier's arms lift. 

Her words seemed to burn into his mind. "Shit, so I must apologise once again. The djinn thing was my fault, I shouldn't have been messing around with it..." He moved to pull away from her, wanting to curl up into a ball and hide away from the world. She held onto his hands firmly, refusing to let him turn away. 

"He really did a number on you, didn't he?" Yennefer said in the softest voice he had ever heard from her. She seemed much more human like this, rather than the scary powerful witch he knew she was. "The djinn was Geralt's fault all the way through. By the gods, you almost died because that oaf doesn't know better than to play around with magics that are beyond his understanding. I refuse to indulge your little pity party, Jaskier. You amuse me too much for me to ignore this. Next time I see that asshole, I'm going to have a nice long chat with him about taking responsibility for his own damn choices, not blaming everything on someone else."

Jaskier smiled appreciatively back at her. "Honey, you don't need to trouble yourself on my behalf. We can just be good friends and look out for each other. The gods know I need someone to talk to who doesn't think telling me about the way they killed some icky little beastie in graphic detail is just what I need as I'm trying to eat."

Yennefer smacked the top of his head gently. "What rubbish are you talking now, bard? Did you hit your head falling down that mountain? I don't need friends, I have enough power to protect myself." 

"Oh Yenna, may I call you Yenna, that right there is exactly why I am going to be the best friend you ever had. Don't worry, I won't make you declare your undying love for me just yet. For now, you can help me figure out how to make those two overgrown puppies of mine look their best. I fear I will have my hands full trying to get them to wear any colour but black to this ball." Jaskier smiled gently at the sorceress and offered her an escape from the emotion filled conversation. 

"Fine, I shall help you with the witchers. But in return, you will let me choose your outfit for the ball. I have seen some of the garish outfits you favour, it's time for you to look less like a peacock and more like a professional entertainer." She stood up gracefully from where she had been reclining and pulled Jaskier to his feet, twirling him playfully like he was a small child. 

"I do not look like a peacock, I am the height of fashion,Yenna. And you must call me Jas, it's only fair if I'm going to let you dress me all in black like some sultry seductress." There was a muffled bang from the room next door followed by some loud swearing and the pair swapped an indulgent look before wading into the battle that would be preparing two witchers for a ball.


	6. I’m the captain of courage you’ve eternally lacked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys and Yennefer attend the ball and Jaskier shows his competence.

Jaskier was enjoying the ball, rather against his will. King Ervyll was a horrific excuse for a human, but Jaskier had enjoyed seeing the fear in his eyes when his attempt to leer at and fondle him under the excuse of a conversation about the music had earned him the angry attention of two witchers. 

Said witchers were also making the night better than expected. While both had insisted on wearing black if they were forced into the crushed velvet "monstrosities" Yennefer and Jaskier had commissioned, Lambert's was golden highlights while Eskel's had a dark crimson. In Jaskier's opinion, they were the most beautiful men in the room and perfectly complimented his golden outfit with crimson embroidery. Yennefer had laughed and called him a gaudy little showbird, to which he had replied that he was just wanting to stand out next to her grand majesty of darkness. Of course, she looked gorgeous in her dress, her pale skin and vibrant eyes against the gauzy fabric standing out from the pale colours favoured by the aristocracy. The four of them certainly stood out, something that had Jaskier preening in front of his audience. 

To make matters even better, the stupid lords and ladies had decided to make his job nice and simple for him. While he smiled jauntily from his corner and sang as many scandalous songs as he could think of to titillate the fussy nobles who seemed to enjoy pretending to be horrified, Jaskier was privy to several rather interesting conversations, including one on plans to avoid Cintra in the near future as a certain army were supposedly turning their sights to it. 

Jaksier had quickly moved on to singing a charming little ditty he had been thinking up the last few days about wolf cubs fighting to see who was stronger, winking at the disgruntled looks Lambert and Eskel sent him from where they lingered in the shadows. He grinned back at them and then caught the eyes of Yennefer, who made a small gesture with her hand and smothered her own smile as he jumped at the sensation of someone pinching his ass. She swept him a dramatic curtsey before stalking over to the witchers, sending people leaping out of her way like a flock of startled pigeons. He watched her murmur to the men for a minute before she wandered over to the table where King Ervyll reclined in his throne. 

The contrast between the two was laughable, one trying desperately to seem powerful and regal while the other was a force of nature personified. Jaskier had to concentrate on his playing to stop himself laughing as he watched the king try to talk down to the sorceress and she responded with a blank stare. The lecherous old man looked like he had pissed himself, and by the reaction of those around him he may very well have done. Yennefer said something to him and then the king was gesturing for Jaskier to stop his playing and join him.

“Bard Jaskier, my ... honoured guest here, Mistress Yennefer of Vengerberg, has requested your presence on the dance floor. You will indulge her and any other requests she makes of you tonight.” Ervyll ruined his gesture of imperialism with the quick glance he sent Yennefer, as if he were a small child seeking approval. 

“I would be honoured, your Grace. Mistress Yennefer, may I?” he asked, bowing deeply to her. 

She nodded imperially at him, taking his hand and addressing the king as she walked away. “Many thanks, your Grace. I shall borrow the bard for the rest of the evening. I have several experiments I need a human participant for that I can perform throughout the course of this ball. Someone of his eloquence should be able to describe the sensations in adequate detail.” 

Jaskier used all the years of practice he had from his previous life in Lettenhove to keep his face impassive as he was led onto the dance floor. He almost lost it when Yennfer sent another wave of magic into his hand, jumping as it felt like someone was tickling the inside of his wrist. 

As she swung him gracefully into the middle of a waltz, she whispered in his ear, “Keep in mind anything you would like to say to our dear friends waiting anxiously for news of tonight. I shall pass it along as we dance, then we can see just how good the drink is in this place.” 

He grinned and kept running through the conversations he had overheard in his mind, making sure to maintain eye contact with her whenever possible as if he were completely besotted with the powerful mage in his arms. If he were to be completely honest, it wasn’t hard to do. Yennefer seemed to be in her element, power almost crackling off of her skin and a fierce, gleeful expression in her eyes as she appeared to dominate the room effortlessly. She knew that all eyes were on her and revelled in it, and if Jaskier saw the slightly desperate look that this much attention left in the way she kept scanning the room to check that this was all happening, he knew better than to try and reassure the insecure child hiding inside this dangerously powerful woman in a public space. That could wait until they were several drinks in and in a private room where the only people they would have to worry about overhearing were his puppies. 

She guided him skillfully around the dance floor for several songs, occasionally teasing him with her magic, causing him to yelp or jump inelegantly to the amusement of the nobles watching, before she dragged him over to a table laden with wine. Lambert and Eskel quickly abandoned their position of safety against the wall to join them in liberating several glasses, crowding close to Jaskier like children seeking reassurance. Having the two men with them seemed to scare the rest of the attendees away from their table, leaving large quantities of wine left unattended. 

“Why do these idiots drink this vinegar? It’s foul and takes far too much to get drunk enough to deal with this rubbish.” Lambert whined as he started drinking straight from a pitcher. Several of the serving men flinched away from him, one letting out a high pitched squeal as Eskel grabbed a pitcher for himself from the man’s hands. 

“The idea is not to get drunk, my dear hearts. For that, you will be wanting the vodkas and such that will be tucked away in the cellar,” Jaskier explained, drinking deeply from his own cup. 

“Well, I happen to agree with the rude one,” Yennefer said before turning to one of the serving men. “Go and fetch a barrel of vodka or two and have them sent to my rooms. Chop chop.” 

The poor man jumped at her order before scampering away to the king’s side. He bent to say something in the man’s ear, moving away quickly when the man nodded after a fearful glance at Yennefer. 

“Let’s go, boys. I think we have given the rabble enough to gossip about. Let’s see what they come up with if the four of us disappear into the same rooms for the night. The scandal might be just the wake up this lot needs.” Yennefer sniggered, leading the way out. The men followed behind her like ducklings, Jaskier winking salaciously at the few who would meet his eyes. The doors of the ballroom had barely closed behind them before he heard the gossiping swell. The idiots should be thanking them for livening up their little party. 

"I'm tired, Eskel," Jaskier whined. "Carry me, love?" He batted his eyes at the witcher in question. He had noticed how uncomfortable Eskel had been all evening, trying to keep his face turned away from the other attendees at the ball and flinching every time someone looked at him. There was no way the poor love would ever ask for any comfort though, so Jaskier supposed it was his solemn duty to do it anyway. 

"Getting old, bard? I did notice you weren't too quick on your feet when we were dancing," Yennefer teased, looking back over her shoulder as she strode off towards her rooms. He saw the ways her eyes flicked from him to Eskel assessingly. He would give her that, she knew exactly how people worked, even if she didn’t bother to take it into consideration most of the time.

Jaskier poked his tongue out at her before grabbing onto Eskel’s arm and jumping up and down, trying to get the witcher to accept the contact. "Oh hush you, I am a delight and you know it. I just can't be bothered walking." 

Eskel sighed and crouched in front of the bard, gripping his thighs as Jaskier gleefully jumped onto his back. 'Onward, noble steed. Some good fucking drink awaits us!" 

Lambert and Yennefer both burst into laughter at the long suffering expression on Eskel's face as Jaskier continued with his dramatics. 

"Wait till Vesemir hears about this, all that work into building up a reputation for witchers gone." Lambert snickered. 

Jaskier shook his finger at him, Eskel’s hands on his thighs the only reason he didn’t fall off as he gestured broadly. "Excuse me, like you haven't given me a piggyback before, mister. Don't listen to these assholes, love, they're just jealous." 

Eskel sighed as Jaskier patted him on top of his head reassuringly. "Stop wriggling around, you lump. Sorceress, tell me we are nearly there before I drop him. I don’t think he needs any of that vodka though." 

"Here we go, boys. Drop him on the bed, Eskel, the idiot needs to learn to behave. He’s not drunk, just being a brat. And I do have a name, you can both use it." She gestured to the chairs around the room and got them settled before opening the doors again to see a serving man standing with one arm raised to knock. “Yes, yes, put it over here and get out.” 

The boy scurried in, rolling the barrel of vodka and placing it in the corner. The barrel was half the size of Jaskier, sending a grin onto the bard’s face as the serving man hurried out of the room under Yennefer’s glare. 

“Soooo, who wants to play a drinking game? Have you ever played  _ I have never?” _


	7. In this garden there’s no feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer and the boys playing a drinking game. Feelings get hurt.

"Hang on, explain it again, bard. If we have never done the thing you say then we drink?" 

Jaskier threw himself back onto the bed dramatically. "Love, you are so lucky that you are adorable and I could never be mad at you. You know very well what I said. Stop trying to wind me up, that's Lambert's job." 

"I resent that comment. I'm much smarter than Eskel." Lambert protested as he poured the shots ready to play. 

Jaskier clapped his hands together and sat up with a feral grin. "Darling, you do remember the time I had to rescue you from that old crone out in the middle of nowhere that you almost agreed to marry. You do not have the best history of listening." 

"Are we drinking or are you boys going to start braiding each other's hair?" Yennefer asked, hiking her skirts up so she could sit comfortably next to the bard and easily reach the vodka while leaning against the bed. “Let me have your cups for a minute, witchers. You’re not having an unfair advantage with your metabolisms here.”

Jaskier scrambled around on the bed to sit behind her and sunk his hands into her hair. "You have to let me braid your glorious hair at some point, honey. If I had some wildflowers and an hour I could make you look amazing. Well, even more amazing." 

"I need far more to drink before I let you braid my fair. Let's get drinking. I'll start, I have never... woken up drunk in a barn." Yennefer grabbed his arm and pulled him to the floor next to her, shoving a cup into his hands expectantly. 

All three men drank, shooting each other pleased looks. Yennefer sniffed in disdain and reclined against the side of the bed, looking like she was posing for her portrait being taken. 

"My turn," Eskel said, joining them in their little circle on the floor and motioning for Lambert to sit next to him. "I have never.... been to a ball before tonight." 

Yennefer and Jaskier both pulled faces before drinking. "It's not our fault you are uncultured swine. Ok, let me see, I have never celebrated my 100th birthday. Take that, you immortal bastards." The three of them drank, Lambert punching him in the leg as he did so. 

“Alright fuckers, let’s get this started. I have never... engaged in a Nilfgaardian Saddleback.” 

Jaskier looked in confusion as Eskel blushed and drank. “The hell is that?” 

“I’m shocked, master witcher. You didn’t seem the type.” Yennefer said, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Eskeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel, love, you have to tell me.” Jaskier whined. 

“Moving right along, I have never sung that bloody  _ Toss a Coin _ song.” Eskel said, pushing Jaskier away from where he was now hanging off of his shoulders. The bard sighed and drank, smirking as Lambert and Yennefer copied him. 

“It’s not your bloody turn, love, but I’ll let it pass. As you assholes know, I make the best songs.” Jaskier crowed, lurching to his feet and singing a few off key bars. 

Yennefer yanked him back down roughly before he tripped over her legs. “Alright, idiot, I have never had to run away from an angry parent whose child I had fucked.”

Jaskier and Lambert both took a deep swig from their cups. “Eskel, you need to learn to live a little when you’re on the path man,” Lambert cried, smacking his friend on the shoulder. 

“Don’t you dare be mean to my little love. He is obviously too adorable to go getting into all the trouble you do. Poor little lamb,” Jaskier said, crawling over to cuddle up in Eskel’s lap. He ignored the initial recoil the witcher always gave, pulling the hand Eskel wasn’t using to his hair and sighing dramatically when the man instinctively started carding his fingers through his hair. 

Yennefer smirked suggestively at the two of them. “Can you tear yourself away from your lover there long enough to ask the next one?” she said archly. 

“Oh, honey, of course I can,” Jaskier retorted, quickly shifting to flop into her lap. He ignored the zap she gave him instinctively, pulling her arm over his shoulder and settling in while stretching out his legs to rest one in each of the witcher’s laps. “How about, I have never tried to scare or intimidate someone into giving me work?” He twisted in his lap to grin impishly at the sorceress as she took a delicate sip of her drink. He watched his boys drink as well and refused to let the frown he felt slip across his face. 

“Who’s turn is it now?” Lambert asked, his face flushed. 

“I don’t think we are keeping track, just go for it,” Yennefer waved her hand magnanimously. The four of them were far too drunk for the amount of vodka they had imbibed, she had obviously added to it quite generously. 

“Ok, ok, um I have never cheated at a game of Gwent?” Lambert slurred. He frowned in disbelief when no one drank. “You lot are unbelievable.”

“No, darling, we just aren’t useless at it,” Jaskier teased gently, kicking at his thigh. 

Yennefer snorted behind him. “Some of us have better things to do then play a stupid card game with every boor in a tavern.”

“My apologies, your majesty. I’m surprised you don’t play, I would have thought you would have wanted to collect your own card.” Lambert sniggered.

“My what?” Yennefer said, lurching forward and unsettling Jaskier from his perch in her lap.

“There’s a Yennefer of Vengerberg card. Didn’t you know? I used to have one, till I lost it a few summers back. Same for Jaskier, although they call you by the crappy stagename you were using in the bigger cities, Dandelion.”

“Really. How have I never heard of this before. One of you must bring me one the next time you find one. I would be most intrigued.” Yennefer settled back, pulling Jaskier into her lap again and stroking his hair absently. 

He could almost feel her walls being pulled back up, the seemingly relaxed posture almost too carefully casual. “It must be my turn then, hmmm.” She looked down at Jaskier and he could see that same calculating, cold look she used to wear back when she was just the powerful mage and he was the annoying sidekick. He panicked, trying to squirm from her grasp and being held tight, a bird staring up into the eyes of a cat. “I have never watched the love of my life fuck someone else.”

All of the fight leaked out of him. Jaskier stared back up at her, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt both of his witchers shift menacingly, confusion radiating off of them at the sudden change in tone. 

“I think it’s time for me to head back to my room,” Jaskier said in a small, defeated voice he almost didn’t recognise. He hadn’t heard himself sound like this since he was a child back in Lettenhove. 

“Can’t take a joke, bard, how disappointing.” He could see the malicious light in Yennefer’s eyes dim a bit. He knew what she wanted, obviously the talk about the Gwent card had thrown her and she wanted to make herself feel powerful, in control. Unfortunately, Jaskier didn’t think he could give her the witty comeback she seemed to be expecting. 

He wriggled once again, slipping free from her arms as confusion drifted across her face. “You can’t head back to your rooms now, you’re far too drunk. The lot of you can barely stand,” Yennefer protested as the witchers hauled Jaskier to his feet and crowded around him. He didn’t fail to notice the way they both moved to position themselves between him and the woman sprawled decadently on the floor. 

“The game is over, Yennefer. We will see you in the morning.” Jaskier said tonelessly, allowing Eskel to take his arm and lead him to the door. Lambert must have done something behind him, as they were able to leave the room without retribution. He quietly staggered back to their rooms, leaning heavily on Eskel for more reasons than just the drink. Thankfully, the hallways were deserted and they made it back without seeing another soul. 

Jaskier hurriedly shrugged out of his doublet, dropping it onto the floor and huddling on the bed in his underclothes with several blankets around him. He peered through the blankets to watch as Eskel and Lambert removed their finery as well, placing them reverently on the chairs and tidying up after Jaskier as they went. 

He let out a small whimper and reached for Eskel as he moved by the bed. “Sleep with me tonight.”

“Of course, little lark. Let Lambert put out the candles and join us,” Eskel murmured as he clambered onto the bed. He hesitated beside Jaskier before the bard pulled him into the nest he had made of blankets, snuggling up against the witcher. He closed his eyes, listening to them snipe at each other in hushed tones before he felt Lambert join them on the bed. Grabbing at both of his witchers, Jaskier tried to ignore the tears seeping from his eyes and will himself to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the sad feels this time. I promise, there will be more happy adventures with all of them.


	8. I don’t know how to reach you when you get like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Yennefer talk about why Yennefer said the things she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is talk about a previous suicide attempt in this chapter. If you would like to avoid it, skip from ""I'm sure you've heard about how sorceresses tend to be educated," to ""I spent years being referred to as piglet by the rectoress and the other girls."

Jaskier woke a few hours later to a strange smell in the room and the loud snores of two witchers curled around him. He groaned, about to roll back over and go to sleep again when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. 

"Fuuuuccccck!" he screamed, patting the bed around him for the weapons he was sure were near his witchers. Said witchers were also disconcertingly relaxed, not so much as twitching at his panic. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Fuck, I'm doing this all wrong. Jaskier, it's just me," Yennefer said, stepping closer to the bed. She seemed smaller somehow, her eye makeup smudged around her face and her hair disheveled. She wore a plain, black silk shift, which he assumed was the mage's version of cosy sleeping clothes.

"Go away, Yennefer. I said I was done." Jaskier sighed, eyeing her like he would a snake in long grass. 

"I wanted to apologise. The witchers won't wake for a few hours and I wanted to explain some things to you." 

"Step number one of apologies, don't use magic to make the person you're apologising too feel helpless. Just leave it, Yennefer. I was stupid to think we could be friends. I know you only put up with me because I was with him. You're free to go continue your epic romance and laugh together about the stupid bard who thought he could keep up with a witcher and a sorceress. Just let me sleep and tomorrow I'll be out of your hair." 

"Fuck, this is what I mean. I turn everything I touch to shit. You're the only person in nearly 100 years that even offered to be my friend. I'm not screwing it up in one night. I just need you to listen to me." Yennefer was perched on the edge of the bed by this point, hands fiddling with the medallion around her neck as she stared at his face. 

Jaskier sighed. "Why the hell do I get myself involved in all of this? Alright, explain away. I'm not saying I'll forgive you, but I can at least do you the kindness of listening. And I promise whatever you say will remain between us, no song or anything." 

Yennefer nodded hesitantly, looking at him for a second before she made a quick gesture and her lap filled with wildflowers. "Could you braid my hair, like you said before. I just don't think I can have this conversation looking at you." 

Jaskier sighed and sat up in the bed, patting the spot in front of him. She shuffled until she sat between his legs and he could reach the flowers and her hair. 

"If I'm going to say this, I'll start from the beginning and you can't interrupt. That's how this has to be." He could hear the way her voice shook even as she tried to maintain that steely tone she was known for. Jaskier rested his head on her shoulder briefly and nodded before beginning to braid her hair. 

"I'm sure you've heard about how sorceresses tend to be educated. Some of us start off life as outcasts, girls shunned by their families with physical deformities. I had the misfortune to be one such girl, hated by my stepfather and neglected by my mother. Even when I was brought to Aretuza I was deeply unhappy. I tried to escape in the only way I thought I had available to me. Those are the only scars I kept after my ascension, the ones on my wrists." Yennefer showed him her wrists in a very nonchalant fashion. Jaskier stroked a finger over the scars gently as he reached for more flowers to weave into her hair.

"I spent years being referred to as piglet by the rectoress and the other girls. Tissaia at least meant it as motivation I believe, the other girls just thought it funny to torment the girl who was worth less than a gods damned pig to her parents." Yennefer let out a bitter little chuckle and tossed her head, wincing as her hair pulled where Jaskier was braiding it. 

"But it was fine, I figured out how to harness my magic and I was more powerful then most of those smug bitches. They told us we would change the world, that we would have the respect that we deserved and had never had as children. What a load of shit. All we got was the shit that kings couldn't be bothered to deal with, the dirty, disgusting tasks they didn't want to sully themselves with, and in thanks we got distrust and ridicule. I heard them all talking about me behind my back, the painted whore who had sold her soul for power, the trained bitch on the king's leash." Jaskier sighed. He had heard similar conversations over the years, people scorning the foppish bard with his high levels of energy and the way he lept headfirst into crazy adventures. He had learnt how to brush them off for the most part, but he knew how those thoughts lingered in the back of one's mind. 

"And then when I decided I wanted something more from my life, wanted someone who valued me for something other than my usefulness as a pawn in their games, I was the crazy witch who thought she could cheat destiny. Even as a sorceress I was alone and different. But I convinced myself I didn't need anyone, I was beautiful and powerful and anything I wanted in life was easily attainable." Yennefer's voice shook as she spoke. It was a heady feeling, to have this powerful sorceress unburdening herself in this manner. Jaskier felt his lingering resentment at her comments earlier begin to fade. 

Yennefer turned to look hesitantly over her shoulder at him before she continued her story. Jaskier braced himself for what he knew was coming. "Then I saw the way Geralt, another person who was strong and capable and seemed as broken as I felt, had someone he cared about so much that he was willing to give anything to save him. I was so jealous and I wanted that for myself. I thought if I could make this person want me, then I would finally have what all the stupid mortals had, finally be happy like they were. I deserve to be happy don't I? So I tried to seduce him, I did everything that had worked before. But just like usual, I fucked it up. I fuck up everything nice in my life. Turns out that he didn't really love me, he was just being forced to care about me because of a bloody djinn. No one ever really wants me, wants Yennefer the girl rather than the sorceress. So I reacted like I usually do. Whenever I feel like someone is getting too close, when I think they might actually see me, it's easier to cut them off." 

His heart was breaking for the woman in his arms. He had finished the braid, a beautiful crown of raven hair adorning her head. He tried to distract himself from the feelings in his chest by tucking more flowers into the crown. 

"Especially people like you, Jaskier. I can tear you apart so easily. When your witcher started joking about me being a Gwent card, like I'm not even a person, just this image, I had to make it stop. I don't know, if I'm hurting someone then at least I know they can't hurt me. I can rip them apart before they can touch me and then I'm safe. But I just... I want what I saw you having. I want to feel something other than fear and pain and ... wanting. I don't want to be the awful bitch I know everyone expects me to be, but how the hell am I meant to change." Yennefer was sobbing by this point, her shoulders shaking with her effort to hold the emotions in. 

"I'm getting distracted, you don't care about this crap. I should have just said I'm sorry for being so cruel, I knew it would hurt you and I should have handled it better. I completely understand if you don't want to see me again, just let me know where you and your boys need to go and I can open up a portal for you in the morning. It's the least I can do." She finished talking, her voice small and childlike in the silence of the bedroom. Throughout her speech he had watched her seem to sink further into herself until she seemed like a shadow of the powerful mage he knew. 

Jaskier waited for a moment before pressing a kiss into her shoulder. "Thank you for telling me that. I have to say, I wasn't prepared to forgive you. We both knew that you understood exactly how I would react to that comment and you did it anyway. But you saying that you are trying to be better, honey, you know I can't be mad at someone for that. If we are going to be friends, and yes I am willing to try and be friends again, you have to promise me that if I tell you that you are going too far, you will stop and consider what you are about to say. Because there are people in this world who do care for Yenna the little girl who wants to prove that she is worthy of love, and I don't want to see you push those people away."

Yennefer turned and buried her face into his chest, clutching at him and crying. Jaskier held her close and rocked her for a minute, humming a lullaby softly. 

"I think you need to go and talk to Geralt at some point as well. You two made each other happier, and you need more than me in your corner." 

"How could you say something like that? He was a complete monster to you." Yennefer protested, pulling back to look at him 

"I know, but I think you need him and I want you to be happy. I can't say that I will go with you to talk to him, but I will be here for you no matter what and this is something you need."

Yennefer considered him for a minute before nodding. "Can I stay here and sleep for the night? I don't want to be alone again." 

"Come here, honey. We can talk more in the morning," Jaskier said, lying back down between Lambert and Eskel before pulling Yennefer on top of him. She curled up in his arms, burying her face in his chest and shaking with her sobs. Jaskier gently rubbed her back, humming the lullaby again until they both drifted off to sleep with flowers strewn throughout the bed. He was sure his witchers would be rather surprised when they woke up. 


	9. And she is stronger than he's ever been he knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witchers wake up to Yennefer in the bed.

"The fuck!" Jaskier heard Lambert shout, followed by a couple of thuds as both witchers fell off the bed. He blearily opened his eyes to see both men glaring at the sorceress currently cuddled into the bard and the flowers all across the bed. He smothered a giggle at the disgruntled look on Eskel's face as he brushed some petals from his shirt while Lambert shook his head, causing a small flurry of flowers. 

"Why the hell is she in our bed, Jaksier?" Lambert asked, pointing at Yennefer like she was some dangerous animal. Jaskier felt her stiffen slightly against him, clearly awake but refusing to face the angry men. 

"Yennefer and I had a chat last night. We resolved a few things and now we are going to be friends." Jaskier said simply, reaching out to try and pull his witchers back into bed. He was comfy and just wanted to snuggle for a little longer. 

Lambert pulled away from his hand, flicking Eskel a glare as the other witcher allowed Jaskier to pull him back into the pile. "She said some fucked up shit, Jaskier, you don't have to be nice to her just because she batted her pretty little eyes at you." 

Yennefer went to move out of his arms but he pulled her closer. "Lambert, darling," he said in a serious tone, "the only reason I am not telling you where you can shove your sudden desire to tell me how to live my life is that I know you are trying to look out for me right now. If I think that Yennefer is worthy of my forgiveness, then that is all you need to know. I'm not asking you to do anything other than accept that and be civil to her. Now get your ass back in this bed and cuddle me. I'm cold and you bastards are comfy." 

Lambert studied him for a minute before clambering back into the bed with a dramatic huff. "I trust you, Jaskier. I just don't want you getting hurt because of your bleeding heart. Eskel and I have to look out for you, the gods only know what trouble you would get in otherwise." 

Jaskier ignored the way Lambert refused to touch Yennefer as he squirmed back into place next to him. "I can look after myself, I don't know why you people think I'm so helpless," he protested. 

"I have to say, I agree with your witcher. This world is harsh and cruel, you need people to look after you so it doesn't crush you like it had us." Yennefer said, shifting to face him. "So, what are your plans, boys? Any space for a sorceress in your next adventure?"

"I was thinking a leisurely wander to Cintra. I think I want to check back in on Princess Cirilla after what I heard last night, see what Calanthe is doing in regards to Nilfgaard. Then I can stay there for the winter while the witchers head back to their little hidey hole so they don't worry too much." Jaskier had been through Cintra several times since Pavetta's betrothal, Calanthe only tolerated him because Eist so enjoyed his songs, especially the dirty ones, and what Eist wanted, he got.

"The child surprise. I should have guessed that you would be keeping tabs on her for our idiot brother. He doesn't know, does he?" Eskel asked. 

"That idiot is refusing to have anything to do with his child surprise. He thinks he can outrun destiny." Yennefer said tentatively. "I know that Calanthe won't welcome a sorceress into her court, she's made her opinions on us very clear, but I would like to travel with you, if you would allow me." 

Lambert made an angry noise from his side of the bed and got flicked on the nose by Jaskier in return. "The boys and I would be happy to have you, honey. We could always use some extra hands, and having someone else who actually cares about basic hygiene should make for an enjoyable time." 

"Hey, I wash," Eskel protested. 

"Love, you adorable witchers are good at many things. Knowing when you are smelling as ripe as some of those monsters you hunt is not one of them. Yennefer , we would love to have you along, as long as you don't have any commitments to our mutual friends?" Jaskier looked at her questioningly. He wanted to make sure Phillipa and Dijkstra knew that Nilfgaard was planning something. If this was the only way he could help Ciri then he would make sure it was done well. 

"They are fine. I checked in briefly with them briefly before we started drinking last night. They are talking to some of their friends and will be able to contact me if they need any further assistance. I will not sit around and wait for them to need me like a child. I feel the need to go and explore the world without the weight of some court or plot hanging over me." Yennefer said, smiling hesitantly at the others.

"And that, my fantastic, amazing, little honey, is called growth. I'm proud of you. We are going to have so many adventures." Jaskier said, bouncing on the bed excitedly. Yennefer giggled self consciously while Eskel sighed and tolerated the way Jaskier bounced his way into his lap. 

"Fuck this shit," Lambert exploded before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door. 

"I should leave," Yennefer said, her walls almost visibly coming back up.

"No, it's not you. I'm too much as usual. I should know better than to be like this." Jaskier murmured, curling in on himself. 

"You two are both ridiculous. Stay here and cuddle or whatever it is you need to do to get back to normal. Lambert just needs someone to punch him a few times and tell him he's being dramatic. He gets like this every so often, don't worry," Eskel said. Jaskier could see the effort it took him to pat them both reassuringly on the shoulder as he followed his fellow witcher into the bathroom. 

Jaskier and Yennefer cuddled on the bed as they listened to the witchers in the bathroom. The bard heard raised voices, Lambert's curses echoing particularly well, before there were several thumps and crashes.

"How the hell are we going to explain the damage those two are going to do in there?" Jaskier asked after a particularly metallic sounding bang, as if someone had used the copper bathtub to hit someone over the head. 

"Ervyll is too scared of me to do much. I'm more worried about what state those two will be in when they come out." 

"I think it's a witcher thing. They seem to be so used to violence all the time that sometimes they start a fight just so they have an excuse to hit something." 

"You're not telling me that any witcher has ever hit you before are you? Because I will fuck them up if they have," Yennefer hissed, her eyes crackling with magic and the flowers in her hair starting to glow. 

"No, no, nothing like that. Lambert has tried to pick a verbal fight a few times. I indulge him up to a point, then he usually goes and punches a tree or if we were in a town he would go visit a brothel. He just needs to get the energy out somehow. Before that, well... you can imagine how my previous travelling partner dealt with it." Jaskier smiled sadly at her. 

Yennefer carded her hands through his hair. "If by dealt with it you mean bottled it all up until he took it out on someone who didn't deserve it like you, then yes, I know what you mean. From the sounds of it, your boys are settling down a bit. Should we start getting ready to leave?" 

"That sounds perfect." Jaksier looked up to see the witchers lumbering back into the room sheepishly. Both had bruises all over them and blood on their shirts. Lambert's nose appeared to be broken and there was a suspicious bite mark on Eskel's arm. 

"It would be good to get back on the Path, I don't think I'm cut out for high society." Lambert said in lieu of an apology. 

Jaskier moved to start addressing their wounds but subsided at Eskel's quick shake of the head. "Of course, dear hearts. You two can start packing up our things, Yenna and I can go and rustle up some breakfast." Jaskier grabbed some clothes from his pack and dragged Yennefer out of the room with him. "Let's go see what we can scare out of the cooks. Although, we may have to stop off at your rooms first, you look way too adorable to scare anyone this morning." 

Yennefer scowled at him. "You underestimate me, bard. Watch and learn." With that she strode off down the corridor in her satin shift, petals floating from her hair as she went. Some nobles rounded the corner, took one look at her and almost ran away from the dismissive, mocking grin she bestowed on them. He had to give it to her, the woman was terrifying. While she may let him see the softer side of her, he knew this kitten would always be prepared to bare her claws to the world.


	10. Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is unwell and the truth comes out.

They had been travelling together for several weeks now, meandering from town to town to fill witcher contracts, sing in taverns, and provide magical assistance, before it happened. Jaskier knew that at some point the tension between Yennefer and Lambert would come to a head, but he had thought that Eskel and himself were doing a pretty good job of keeping them all sane. 

Whenever Lambert started getting a bit too aggressive and snarky Eskel found him a contract and sent him off to go take out his feelings on some poor monster.Jaskier had been keeping an eye of Yennefer, and when she seemed to be getting too sharp and cutting with her comments, he would take her for a walk under the pretence of needing her to help him find some specific herbs he wanted to have made into ointments for his skin before engaging in a few witty repartees and then sitting her down to braid more flowers into her hair while she set some bushes on fire or whatever else she wanted to do to unwind. 

It wasn't the best system in the world but it had been working well for them. That is, it was until Jaskier got sick. 

Usually, Jaskier was fairly healthy. He didn't get the random colds and chills that others seemed to suffer from and despite how clumsy he was he never hurt himself enough to draw blood. Unfortunately, that combined with the fact that he spent the majority of his time with people who only showed that they were in less than perfect health if they were about to die meant that the bard reacted rather poorly to waking up in the morning with the overwhelming urge to vomit up everything he had ever eaten in his life. 

"I'm dying," he moaned when the others woke up with a start to find him heaving into a nearby bush. "This is not the end I would have imagined for the heroic bard, companion of witchers, singer of..." he broke off to retch piteously. 

"You're fine, bard. Save your dramatics," Yennefer said after looking at him for a minute. She went to head back into the tent she had brought with her, clearly intending to go back to sleep if they weren't moving on.

"You heartless bitch," Lambert shouted as Eskel moved to kneel beside Jaskier and smooth his hair out of his face. Both witchers were shaking at the sight of the bard. "He could be dying for all you know, but why would you bother to check if he's ok or not? Always looking out for yourself and not giving a shit about anyone else. I should have known you wouldn't be any different then all those other puffed up pricks you call sorcerers." 

Jaskier hated hearing them fight like this, even if he was clearly dying while they argued. "Lambert, Yennefer, don't fight over me in my final hours," Jaskier whined weakly, moving to place himself between them before he dove back to the bush again.

"He's completely fine, witcher. If you two want to play nursemaid to his theatrics, be my guess. He should be back to normal in a few hours." Yennefer said. "There is nothing we can do, and you two seem to be well prepared to keep him comfortable, so there is no need for me to be in the way. Besides, even the residual magic around me is just going to make this harder on him." 

"Speak plainly for once in your fucking life, you miserable bitch. What the hell is happening to him?" Lambert was screaming now, terror etched into every line in his face. He looked like he was trapped in memories, not seeing the man in front of him but another person ravaged by illness. 

“He’s been under a glamour, a rather good one I might add. I assumed you all knew.” Yennefer replied, examining her nails. “I had thought it was a voluntary one, but from the way he is purging himself I would say that it was placed on him at birth and now his body is rejecting it. Do you even know what you are, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to look at her incredulously, bile dripping down his chin as he shook. “The fuck? I’m human, Yenna, you know I’m just the weak little human in the group.” There was no way in hell he was turning into some bloody monster and making his boys put him down like a rabid dog. He would take himself off and find a way to live alone in the mountains if he had to. 

“No, you never have been. It’s a fairly complex glamour that you have been under though, I barely felt it when we first met, I thought it was just the ambient magic from your witcher companion that I was feeling. I only figured out it was you when you were braiding my hair last night. I didn’t want to pry, most glamours are very personal issues, so I didn’t say anything.” 

“So what, why the hell is he throwing up then?” Eskel asked in a strained voice. He tried to clean Jaskier’s face with his sleeve but was batted away weakly. 

“He will be purging the magics involved with the glamour. I would suggest that an extended period of time has elapsed since the glamour was placed on him and his own internal magic has finally overcome it. We should see very soon what you really are, Jaskier. But for now, I am sorry to say this will be a rather uncomfortable process and I am sure you do not want me watching when you start purging from other... orifices. So I will retire to my tent and once I can feel the magics start to settle, I will come back and see who you really are. You have two devoted companions to nurse you through this, you will be fine.” With that, the woman turned and walked back into her tent, the flap closing behind her with a snap. 

All three men looked at each other in shock for a minute before Jaskier let out a piteous wail as his stomach cramped. “Oh fuck, I’m going to be some horrific monster, I just know it. Oh, this is going to be awful. What if I can’t play anymore?” Jaskier moaned, slumping to the ground and shivering as sweat coated his body. 

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure it won't be anything too bad. Lambert and I won’t let you hurt anyone,” Eskel soothed, pulling Jaskier to lie with his head in his lap.

“Fuck, this is just like the fucking trials. I can’t watch someone else die in their own shit, Eskel.” Lambert swore, shaking his head and pacing. He could barely look at the bard. 

Eskel shot him a filthy look. “He won’t die, you idiot. You heard her, he’s just experiencing a slight change.” He patted Jaskier’s hair down, hating the way the bard tensed at Lambert’s words, his eyes rolling in his head. 

“Oh yeah, and when did you last see someone undergo a change, complete with vomit, shit, and all other manner of bodily fluids. Only three in fucking ten, Eskel. You might not remember the screaming, but I sure as hell do.” Lambert’s voice was getting higher and higher as he talked.

Eskel winced, the same memories that were tormenting his brother replaying behind his eyes at well. No one, least of all Jaskier, deserved that kind of pain. Yes, they had both survived it, but at what cost. What would it do to their bard? “I know, Lambert, I remember too. But this isn’t the Trial of the Grasses, this is our friend. This is Jaskier here. So you need to sort yourself out and come and help him. Alright?”

Lambert stared at him for a long moment, terror in his eyes, before he nodded curtly and came over to kneel beside their bard. “From the sounds of it, this is going to be similar to what we went through. If he’s about to start shitting himself as well as throwing up his guts, we better get him undressed. Do you want to handle that and I can ask Miss Magic over there for some buckets and get some water and rags.”

Eskel nodded without looking away from Jaskier, who was almost delirious by now, shaking and muttering about how he didn’t want to vomit again. It was going to be a long day, but at least having a purpose seemed to have snapped Lambert out of his panic. They would do whatever was needed to take care of their bard, no their friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been debating for a while if I was going to keep Jaskier human or not so, you can finally see what I decided.


	11. Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what Jaskier is.

Jaskier was done with it at this point. He had finally stopped heaving up his guts and the awful process of having to be cared for by his witchers (not that he would ever be able to look them in the eyes again) as he almost died from dysentery was over with. Now he was just burning up, his skin painfully dry and itchy, especially where a rash had developed around his neck and on his hands and feet. 

"Water, please Eskel," he moaned. 

"You just had some, little lark. You need to wait and make sure it doesn't come straight back up again," the man replied. He and Lambert were both wiping their bard down with damp cloths, the only thing they had found that stopped Jaskier screaming about his skin being on fire. 

Jaskier's eyes burned. He had cried so much the tears wouldn't come any more, which was awful because the tears had at least cooled his face a little. "Is it done? Can I be done now? Please Lambert, Eskel, I just want it to be done," he begged.

"Just a little longer, little lark, it looks like you're nearly done." Jaskier didn't miss the significant look Lambert sent Eskel as he spoke. He was about to say something but was distracted by Yennefer emerging from her tent. 

The sorceress looked perfect as usual, but there was a frantic edge to her motions, her emotions seeping through the mask she wore. "Well, I have to say, I have no idea what he is. He looks like he needs more water though, witchers, I think we had better take him to the nearest stream."

Lambert and Eskel shared another one of those bloody secretive looks before Eskel answered her. "If we take him to the water, he might not come back," he said in a cautious tone.

"Yes, well, if we don't then it looks as though he may dessicate. Look at the state of him, his skin is almost flaking off. Besides, I doubt he will go anywhere, he's far too attached to you two." 

"The fuck am I?" Jaskier whined, pulling at Lambert's sleeve weakly. 

"We aren't quite sure, let us get you in the water and then we can see." With that Lambert lifted him with surprising gentleness before striding off into the woods, Eskel and Yennefer trailing behind. 

Jaskier could feel the tension in Lambert's arms, he knew this couldn't be easy for his witchers but they were starting to scare him with the way they were acting now. Lambert was acting as if the bard was seconds away from either dying or ripping everyone's heads off, neither of which were an option that Jaskier was keen on. He could hear Yennefer and Eskel muttering behind him, their voices sounding uncommonly loud as the sorceress questioned the witcher on how the last few hours had gone. 

Then Jaskier's body went rigid in the witcher's arms, almost causing Lambert to drop him. "Do you hear that?" Jaskier asked in a hushed voice. 

"The hell do you think you hear, bard?" Lambert replied.

"I don't know, but it's so beautiful. You have to keep going Lambert, I need to go and see it. It wants me to come closer." The bard was straining towards the sound, making it hard for Lambert to hold onto him. He heard both the witchers swear, but he was far too busy trying to listen to the gorgeous music he could hear to tell them off. 

By the time they got to the stream, Lambert was having to hold tight to the bard who was struggling against his friend with surprising strength given how ill he had been only moments ago. As soon as the bard caught sight of the water he bit viciously into the witcher's arm, causing him to drop the younger man in shock, before launching himself into the water. 

"Can you see him?" Eskel panicked, wading into the stream alongside Lambert. Neither witcher could see the bard, he seemed to have disappeared into the river completely. 

"No, he just took off. He was much stronger than a human, and his teeth were far too sharp. I think we were right, Eskel. For fucks sake."

"Will you assholes stop panicking and tell me what the hell we are dealing with here?" Yennefer asked angrily as she paced the side of the river. "I thought you witchers were meant to be all tough and stoic, not a pair of bloody mother hens. He hasn't gone far, I can still sense the remains of the glamour as it's being destroyed."

"We aren't sure, but he seems to be a Fossegrim, a kind of nixie. Grims are water spirits, usually young men, who like to lure people into the water with their musical talents and either drown them if they feel threatened to teach them music if they are deemed worthy. He shouldn't be too dangerous, as long as he feels safe, but it's not a species we know a lot about. With a grim, usually you just tell people to stop messing with their water and leave them alone, then it's fine. We haven't had to fight or talk to them too much, so we have no idea what else he is capable of." Eskel explained as he continued to scan the water for their bard. 

"Well, I hope you are prepared to answer some questions, because here he comes," Yennfer said, gesturing up the stream.

There was a brief surge under the water approaching the witchers where they stood in the river before Jaskier was floating between them on his back, smiling up at them with pointed, serrated teeth. "The stream sounds so beautiful," he said, his voice sounding even more musical than usual with lilting, liquid tones. 

"Would you like to sit on the bank and we can talk about how you are feeling?" Eskel asked cautiously. Lambert was busy lifting one of Jaskier's hands from the water, turning it gently to examine the slight webbing between his fingers and the new silvery blue sheen his skin had. There was a delicate faint pattern on his skin, the slightest hint of scales dancing across his body and shimmering in the light.

"I feel fine, where's my lute? I want to play along with the stream," Jaskier said, pulling his hand from Lambert's to dance his hands across the water in time to a tune only he could hear.

Yennefer sighed. "I guess the shock of suddenly reconnecting with the element he needs has gone to his head a bit. Come here Jaskier, talk with us and then we can see about getting your lute." She motioned the grim to the side of the stream. 

He grinned impishly at her before slipping under the surface of the stream to reemerge just in front of her with a splash, drenching the sorceress. He cackled at her expression, lying in the water with his arms crossed on the bank. "Yes, your grace," he teased. "I'm listening with bated breath." 

Yennefer sneered at his theatrics, her usual attitude barely covering the relief in her eyes at the sight of the unharmed bard. "You two explain it to this idiot. He's being ridiculous, as usual." 

"But Yenna, honey, you loooooove meeeee," Jaskier drawled, sending himself into peels of laughter and almost slipping below the surface again. 

"I didn't think you could get more annoying. Looks like I was wrong," Yennefer fired back, sitting delicately on the edge of the stream to card her fingers through his hair. 

"Alright, so it looks like you're a fucking Fossegrim, Jaskier," Lambert said, wading to shore. At Jaskier's curious tilt of the head he continued. "You're a species of nixie, a water spirit. Grim's aren't too vicious unless they get pissed off, they just lurk around in the water and play music. They can teach people to play inhumanely well and I suspect there's some form of hypnosis in the music they, I mean you, play."

"So how do you feel? Do you know why you had the glamour on you?" Yennefer asked impatiently, her fingers pulling briefly on his hair before resuming the absentminded letting she had been doing. "And focus on this, you can babble on about how pretty the water sounds later." 

Jaskier sighed pensively. "I feel really good, I can hear how happy this stream is that I'm here, I feel the water almost like it's an extension of myself. I know, I don't know how but I do, that if I wanted to I could make the water do what I want. I could make it move in ways it wouldn't normally, I could freeze it or make it boil, I could pull the water from within you out into the open," he bared his teeth in a savage grin at that before visibly shaking away the thought. "And I can hear music everywhere, especially in the water. If I wanted, I could sing a song that would make it rain, or one that would bring someone to the stream. I could get lost in the music, how do I make sure I don't get lost in the music?" He finished with a scared glance up at the sorceress, his eyes pleading with her to make it all ok. 

"The boys will keep an eye on you while I go back to my tent and craft you an amulet. I have some odds and ends lying around, I'll craft something that will allow you to pass as human and mute your magic. Hopefully that will allow you some control while you figure this out. I would ask you not to remove it without these two or myself present, especially if you are afraid of losing yourself. That way, we can see how much control you can learn as we travel to Cintra and you will have the amulet to protect you when we can not. Do you know how you came to be glamoured or is that something you would like me to investigate this winter?" At his earnest nod she smiled gently and pushed him further into the stream. "Play with your witchers, I will be back soon." 

A mischievous light danced in his eyes before he slipped beneath the surface, vines of water twisting around the two witchers and dragging them under to the music of delighted laughter. Yennefer chuckled at his antics before heading back to her tent. This would be rather tricky magic, but there was no way she would allow her friend to live in fear of his own nature.


	12. Sing louder than you’ve sung for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his friends experiment with his new gifts.

By the time Yennefer returned to the stream both witchers were drenched with wrinkled skin and Jaskier was in the middle of the stream with a fish between his serrated teeth, pride making his eyes shine. 

"I'm gone for a few minutes and you turn feral, gods be good," she laughed. 

"We had a fishing competition, Yenna," Jaskier crowed as he placed his catch on the bank beside her. "These idiots wanted to check if I can at least feed myself now, so I said we could make it a little competition. They have to carry my pack for the next week now." 

Yennefer pushed the fish further away from her with a stick. "I am sure we are all suitably impressed by your hunting prowess, you great and powerful being. Now come here, I need to put this amulet on you." 

Jaskier sighed and slipped onto the bank beside here, leaving his webbed feet dangling gently in the current. "I will be able to take it off when I want, right Yenna?" he asked softly, trailing a hand over the delicate pattern of scales on his arm. 

"Of course, my little idiot. Now hold still, this might pinch a bit." With that she grasped his ear and quickly stabbed an earring into the top of his ear. He let out a sharp scream, the witchers tensing at the sound, before clutching his ear as if it had fallen off.

"Sweet Melitele, warn a man, you bloodthirsty witch." Jaskier sulked. "Did it have to be a bloody earring, why not a nice ring or a bracelet?"

Yennefer pulled his hand away to place the backing onto his new earring, the pale blue jewel glinting in the sun and matching the color of his eyes. "Did you want something that someone else can easily remove? It's far too simple for a pickpocket to take a ring or a bracelet and then you're fanged and scaly in the middle of the marketplace place. At least this way you should notice someone trying to steal it, and it needed a drop of blood anyway to be properly calibrated to your particular... requirements." With that she started examining him, pulling his foot from the water to check if the webbing remained and peering at his skin to see if it was back to normal. 

"That's a powerful charm, Yennefer. All we can sense is that he has a low level glamour on, something that would most likely be expected of a bard to appease his vanity," Eskel said with a teasing smile at Jaskier's affronted gasp. 

The sorceress graced them all with a smug smile. "I am good at what I do, no matter what else people say about me. Now, if you want to let this glamour drop, all you have to do is remove the earring. I have charmed it so that it should reappear in your pocket if it is not in your general vicinity, so even you should be unable to lose it. Let's head back to camp and move out for the day, I want to check how well it holds up before we start teaching you some control tonight. Eventually, the aim would be for you to be able to pass as human without it, but I fear that may take some time." 

They trudged back to their camp and packed up in record time before setting off for the day. Yennefer had a pale grey mare she was riding, while Jaskier sat in front of Eskel on Scorpion, the war horse being stronger than Lambert's Lady Horsington (a name he still protested everytime the bard used it.) 

Jaskier passed the time playing his lute, trusting Eskel to keep him on the horse. His overly loud rendition of  _ The Valiant Witcher  _ had Eskel blushing and Lambert throwing stray branches at his brother, laughing that at least his song was properly menacing. Jaskier defended his poor little love, telling Lambert to pull his head out of his arse before he started singing about  _ The Dark Wolf and his prick _ instead. Yennefer grinned, asking for songs about her instead. Jaskier was happy to comply, trying out a few verses of his new song of the dark haired seductress who brought a town to its knees when insulted. 

"Wow, and I thought he was being generous with your song, Eskel," Lambert teased. 

"No, this is what happened when I first met the lovely Yennefer of Vengerberg. Some idiots had tried to stop her working in their town. By the time we arrived, she had them all bespelled and engaged in some weird orgy thing, then used us to punish the ones who had tried to arrest her. All before saving my life and trying to take a djinn's power. Our sorceress, my puppies, is one terrifying individual." The two men looked at him in shock while Yennefer sketched a bow from her perch on her horse. 

"It sounds like a beautiful song, little lark. If you would like any other stories you can immortalise in song, I am happy to oblige, especially if you continue to make me sound so delightful. Those other bitches at Aretuza can eat their hearts out. A good bard seems to be much better for one's image than all the jewels and furs they like to drape themselves in." 

"Yes, because you are so far above such insignificant material matters, aren't you honey," Jaskier snickered with a pointed look at the magnificent black velvet and white fur travel cloak she wore over her immaculate riding gear. She shot him a rude gesture with her hand, sending him into peals of laughter that almost unseated him from Scorpion's back. 

They continued on for hours, until the sun had set and even Jaskier was getting sick of Lambert's constant asking for dirty songs. When they set up camp for the night, Jaskier sat dreamily by the fire, fidgeting with his new earring while the rabbits Lambert and Eskel had caught for supper were cooking. With a sly grin he quickly pulled the earring off, slipping it into his pocket. He wanted to see what he could do with his singing and it was a more accurate experiment if the others weren't forewarned, right? 

Jaskier started humming a few bars of  _ Toss a Coin _ lightly, watching the others out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to stare at the fire. Yennefer seemed to relax a bit more than usual, not maintaining her usual rigidly good posture. The two witchers both straightened, looking around as if to identify a threat before they too slouched before the fire. 

The bard grinned to himself before beginning to sing the chorus, feeling his magic wrap around his words and give his voice an unearthly melodious quality. The three sat quietly for a minute before they started slowly reaching for their coin pouches and throwing them at each other. Jaskier stopped his song as he doubled over laughing, causing his friends to blink sluggishly at each other before noticing the money surrounding the two witchers and the bard rolling around on the floor.

"What the fuck did you do, you little asshole?" Lambert said, grabbing his coin purse from the ground by Eskel's foot and starting to count his coins. The other's copied him, shooting Jaskier annoyed looks.

“I just wanted to see what would happen. You can’t fault me, it was all in the name of science.” Jaskier proclaimed, still giggling at their reactions. “At least we know that I am powerful enough to enchant two witchers and a sorceress with one little song.”

“You little shit, you had no idea what you were doing. If you were going to call this science you need controls, you need to know that no one is going to get hurt, you pointy toothed little bastard,” Yennefer snapped.

Jaskier threw himself into her arms, wincing when she wasn’t able to catch him the way he was used to with his witchers and the pair of them ended up tangled on the floor. “You know I would never hurt you,” he said softly, staring into her eyes. 

She stared back almost blankly for a second before shaking her head and shoving him off of her. “Don’t you dare.”

“Turnabout is fair, Miss I-use-magic-on-my-friends. Besides, I can see the curiosity burning in your eyes. Let’s play a fun game of Jaskier-sings with these witchers and see what we can do.” 

Yennefer and Jaskier both turned calculating eyes on the two men who paled and backed away before the fossegrim and the sorceress shared a grin. “Let’s start with seeing how far you can summon them from,” Yennefer suggested, watching the two slip into the trees around their clearing. This would be educational.


	13. You're the one who asked me if I'm feeling ok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his friends spend one last night together before splitting up for the winter.

In the few weeks it had taken to get close to Cintra, Jaskier and his companions had learnt rather a lot about him being a fossegrim. He didn't do well if he was unable to get close to enough water to submerge his body for too long, becoming easily distracted and a little irritable. Lambert in particular had learnt that one the hard way, poking fun at a dehydrating bard and earning a rather impressive scar in the shape of Jaskier's new, serrated teeth in his forearm where he had tried to hold off the angry fossegrim. It had taken both Eskel and Yennefer to get the bard off of his friend and he had swiftly disappeared into the trees around him, reappearing after a few hours frantic search dripping wet and apologetic. 

Thankfully, Yennefer's amulet worked wonders on keeping him human looking. As long as he was able to take a bath every few days, the sorceress had deemed him safe enough to go to Cintra alone. His two darling overprotective puppies weren't as convinced, but they knew better than to risk the wrath of Queen Calanthe in her vendetta against all witchers and they were learning about the wrath of a certain not so helpless bard as well. 

While Jaskier was looking forward to Cintra and seeing Ciri again, he wasn't too keen on not seeing his puppies and his kitten for a couple of months. His answer to the problem, one last big hurrah before they split for the winter. So Jaskier coaxed (bullied and possibly used his voice a little) the others into renting a room in a tavern on the edge of Cintra and having a few drinks. This time, he made Yennefer promise that if she was going to drink she needed to keep her claws to herself, something that she agreed to with the usual attitude and a sad light in her eyes. 

To cheer his kitten up, Jaskier decided that tonight was the day to debut his latest song,  _ The Ebony Enchantress _ , to an overjoyed audience who leapt at the chance to hear a brand new song from the famous bard. While the adoration of a crowd was a nice boost to the ego, the small smile gracing his Yenna's face was all the praise he needed.

He rounded out the night with his songs for his little puppies, loving the way Lambert puffed out his chest for his while Eskel blushed sweetly, and of course the obligatory performance of  _ Toss a Coin _ to get the money rolling in before they decided to call it a night. 

"Alright my amazing, sweet little darlings, I had a bath warmed up for us, let's relax and enjoy our last night together." Jaskier said, ushering his friends into their room. 

"Of course you did, you know I get it first, boys." Yennefer smirked at them all. "Face the wall while I get in." The witchers grumbled as they turned but Jaskier poked them both in the sides in reproach. 

"Alright, you can turn around," Yennefer said, submerged enough in the water that there was nothing too exciting for the boys to see. "If you have any of your fancy salts, Jaskier, I wouldn't object. Might even let you wash my hair," she grinned over her shoulder at him. Jaskier dove into his bags, pulling out vials and bags of herbs and salts while the witchers sighed and collapsed on the bed before engaging in a small shoving match. 

"Don't make the bath smell all flowery, we have to get in there too," Lambert complained before snarling and biting Eskel where he was trying to smother him playfully. Gods his witchers were ridiculously violent. One day he would have to teach them how to play nicely. Jaskier pulled a face at him and stared him down as he dropped a handful of lavender into the bath. They needed relaxing, not whatever monster innards scent they thought they would like. 

"And what would madame like done with her hair today?" Jaskier asked with a ridiculously fake Toussaint accent. 

Yennefer giggled at his antics before shrugging. "I don't mind, just something where it's all up and out of the road for the night. That way I won't have to deal with it before I portal to Lettenhove in the morning." 

Jaskier frowned at the thought of Lettenhove before getting started on some braids, planning on putting the braids up into a bun later on. "While you are in that place, could you do me a favour?" 

"Silly little lark, of course I will. Why else would I be going there?" She said with a little bite to her tone. 

"If you could check in on my sister, I worry about Madeline." His voice was small in the sudden silence of the room, even the witchers stopping their fight in reaction to the emotion pouring from their friend. 

Yennefer placed a hand over his briefly. "Is there anything in particular you want me to tell her?"

"No, she... there was an incident before I was born, might actually be related to the whole grim thing now I think about it so you may want to question Mother, but um ... she isn't too aware of what's going on around her. The townsfolk used to say that she was fairy struck, one day she came home from playing in the woods and she wasn't acting human anymore. She wouldn't talk, she doesn't seem to react to most people, but I used to sing to her and braid her hair like I do yours. She seemed to like that, well, she wouldn't try to get away and that was always a good sign with Maddy." 

He tapped her on the shoulder as he finished her hair before passing her a towel, turning as she moved out of the bath. "I will check in on her and see what I can do." Yennefer promised as she went over to their bags, waving at the bath carelessly to both enlarge the bath and freshen the water so that all three men could fit. 

There was a quick whoop as the witchers shucked their clothes in record time, jumping into the bath with no concern for modesty. Yennefer watched them move appreciatively. "Thanks for the show, boys. I must say, I will miss the views over winter." 

"Well then, we will have to ensure we all meet up again in the spring. Hell, we could even winter at Kaer Morhen next winter together, we can ask Vesemir if he will mind this year." Eskel said with a blush on his cheeks. Jaskier was so proud of the progress he was making, there was no sneaky head tilt to hide the scar or trying to pretend that witchers needed no one.

Yennefer nodded with a pleased smile on her face as she pulled her shift over her head. "I would love to see the famed Kaer Morhen. I am sure there would be many interesting artefacts for me to see." 

"Vesemir will kill us if you actually listen to him talk about all the crap he has around the place. Don't you dare get us in trouble," Lambert laughed, pulling a face at Jaskier when he started adding some scents to the bath. 

It was just some sandalwood, the big babies could cope and he knew they liked it. He had seen them discreetly sniffing themselves after he had put it in their baths before. Jaskier grinned before pulling his earring out and tossing it to Yennefer before jumping into the bath, showing Eskel and Lambert's legs out of the way to make room. 

He would miss this: quiet evenings with his puppies all relaxed and his kitten watching indulgently. But he needed to check on his little lion cub. He had come to care for her in his previous winter visits to Cintra, even if it had started out as a favour to someone who didn't care what he did. He would do what he could to make the missing witcher's life easier, even if the man never wanted to see him again. 

Having these past few weeks of travelling with his friends was a blessing and a curse. He couldn't remember a time he felt this loved and appreciated, but he was so achingly aware of the whole in his heart at all times. He needed to learn to be happy with what he had. At least Jaskier was a good actor, he would fake it until he tricked his heart into believing it.


	14. Oh darling lord, how you make me laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group split up and Jaskier heads to Cintra.

The next morning was a rather subdued affair. They had spent the night cuddled together on the bed, using the excuse of it being the only one to justify the way they all kept contact with each other. Jaskier woke to see Yennefer watching him quietly, a witcher on either side of them. They stared at each other for a moment before she nodded and started to get ready for the day, touching her braided bun frequently as she moved around the room. 

The two witchers moved in to hold the bard between them for a moment before rising from the bed and gathering their things with efficiency born of years of practice. No words were spoken as Eskel passed Jaskier his pack, and the group slowly moved from their room out to the road. They stood in front of the tavern, regarding each other sadly for a minute. 

"That's enough of this emotional rubbish," Yennefer said briskly as she opened a portal behind her. "I shall meet you here again in the spring, Jaskier. Witchers, I am sure we will find you on your Path soon after." With that she hurriedly stepped through before they could say anything about the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. 

The three men paused for a moment before Jaskier threw himself into their arms. "I will miss you, my adorable little puppies," he wailed. 

"Not puppies," Lambert sighed while rubbing his face against the bard's neck in a decidedly puppy like fashion. Eskel whined his agreement, copying his brother's actions much to Jaskier's delight. 

They pulled away slowly before smiling at their bard. 

"Don't go getting yourself killed by some fancy fop with a sword," Eskel said. "We're going to need you at Kaer Morhen next winter, someone is going to have to distract us while Yennefer and Vesemir pour over all of the rubbish he's collected." 

Jaskier grinned at them. "I'll see you in the spring. Make sure you have lots of new beastie stories for me to sing, how else am I meant to earn an honest living." With that he pulled himself away and started wandering down the road to the palace of Cintra. His witchers watched him for a moment, smiling at the song's he hummed as he walked, before turning and making for Kaer Morhen.

He managed to hitch a ride on the back of a wagon delivering vegetables to the keep not long after, singing cheerfully to his driver in thanks. Then it was a short wander around the grounds before he spotted his darling Cirilla, dressed in casual clothing and with a cap over her head, lurking with a group of children playing games. He snuck up behind her, revelling in his newfound stealth, before clamping his hands down on her shoulders. 

“How is my favourite princess?” he asked in her ear, grinning as she let out a small shriek and kicked him in the leg. 

“Jaskier!” she cried as she turned and saw him. She threw herself at him, her friends muttering and slowly backing away from the show of affection from the usually controlled princess. 

“Sweet Melitele, have they been standing you in manure or something. You’ve shot up like a weed. You’re going to be as tall as me soon,” he laughed, swinging her around in a circle so that her feet left the floor. “Come on, you will have to present me to your grandmother. I thought I would see if she would like a live in bard for the winter again, I know how Eist loves some of my songs and we all know Calanthe loves it when Eist has that look on his face.”

Ciri giggled as he lowered her feet to the ground and started dragging him by the arm to the palace gates. “Ew, Jaskier, don’t encourage them. Eist is disgusting with all his little comments and Grandma only pretends to be annoyed with him. If you start singing  _ The Fishmonger’s Daughter _ he’s going to be extra gross and then I shall have to spend all my time with you to avoid them both.”

“What a wonderful idea then, my little lion cub. I will have to make sure to sing it especially enthusiastically, then I can bother you all winter long and we can terrorise the castle like old times.” 

Ciri poked her tongue out at him. “You know I will spend as much time with you as I can anyway. There’s no one else in the castle who knows how to have fun. But I shall be stuck in lessons with Mousesack most days and he is being particularly mysterious lately. Keeps going on about the sword of destiny and some rubbish about even my grandmother not being able to fight fate. It’s very boring and he won’t ever explain it to me apart from saying that I will meet my destiny soon enough and that little princesses shouldn’t worry, they have protectors that will look after them. I don’t need a protector, I can take care of myself.” She huffed and looked at him ferociously. 

“Yes,” Jaskier agreed with a slight wince at the mention of destiny, “you are twelve years old now, more than old enough to look after yourself. The old boring people forget what it was like to be twelve. But you do know that I will help you whenever you need, don’t you? Whether it is finding a way to sneak out of your lessons or finding your destiny. If you call for me, I will do my best to stand by you. After all, you are my darling little lion cub and the most noble princess I know.” He finished with an elaborate bow to her. 

She grinned and took his hand, fixing her face into an expression clearly modeled on her grandmother at her most regal. “Of course, lowly bard. I accept your promises of fidelity with all my heart and rejoice in the knowledge that you shall stand at my side through all troubles.” She lost her feigned dignity with a snicker before leading him to the doors of her grandmother's rooms. She knocked on the door and waited to be invited inside. 

“Look who I found,” she cried, dragging Jaskier with her as she bounced into the room. Calanthe and Eist, seated at a table enjoying some wine, looked up at her dramatic entrance and smiled welcomingly at the bard. 

“I trust you came alone,” Calanthe said in her smooth, regal voice. She fixed him with that half smile she favoured, confident in the knowledge that Jaskier wouldn’t dare to break her orders on not allowing a witcher near her granddaughter. 

“But of course, your grace. I thought, what better way to spend the winter than in such a splendid court performing for such gracious and appreciative nobles, if you will have me, that is.” Jaskier said, slipping into a deep bow with his usual flourish. 

“Any new songs about the delightful maidens running about the Continent? You really must try Skellige for inspiration some time, bard, the girls there are particularly fetching, hell some of the lads too.” Eist grinned wolfishly at his wife as he spoke, clearly expecting the cutting look she sent him. 

“What this oaf of a husband of mine meant was that you are of course welcome, bard. You have served our court well in the past and have even managed to teach Cirilla to play a few songs. The gods know I wish she was attentive at all her lessons, but alas, she is far more like her grandmother and her mother for that. She knows what she wants from life and apparently that is not to listen to her tutor’s lessons like a good girl.” Calanthe smiled indulgently at Ciri's petulant face. 

"Maybe if the lessons were actually interesting rather than talking about people who have been dead forever and ever then I would pay attention. Can Jaskier teach me instead of Mousesack? Please?" she begged, making the adorable face Jaskier had taught her several years ago that he used to get his way. 

"We shall see," Calanthe demurred. "Ciri, go settle your friend in. I am sure I speak for all of us when I say I am very happy to have you here for the weekend. But if you sing some melancholy horse shit I will have you strung up by your ankles, understood?" 

"Of course, only the most exciting songs of war and victory for the Lion of Cintra. Shall I prepare to perform for you tonight?" Jaskier asked as Ciri bounded excitedly around his feet. Calanthe nodded and waved in dismissal. The bard and princess barely got out of the room before they heard something banging on the table. 

"Gross," Ciri muttered in disgust before leading Jaskier off to his rooms for the winter.


	15. Your smile was so sublime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Ciri avoid lessons for the day.

Ciri and Jaskier were under the table in the grand hall, giggling and munching on the fresh fruit pies they had liberated from the kitchens on their mad dash through the palace away from Mousesack’s lessons. 

They had been running throughout the castle for the better part of the day to avoid capture, dodging Mousesack and Ciri’s grandparents and getting into mischief wherever they could. Jaskier was sure it would take a nice long while for someone to straighten out the mess they had made in Ciri’s bedroom, where they had used her bedsheets and whatever else they could find to make a rope to climb out of the window and away from those trying to get them to act their age. They had swung through the window into the middle of a noble’s guest room, surprising the man as he was getting changed and racing past him as he yelled his disapproval. 

As they heard footsteps come into the room they both started shoving food into each others mouths faster, trying to muffle the other’s panicked laughter. There was a deep sigh and then the table cloth was lifted to reveal Mousesack’s disappointed face. 

“I expected better from you, your highness. The bard is a lost cause, we know this, but I thought that you at least had some sense of propriety. Instead, I find you huddled under the table, hand’s stained like a common thief,” he lectured. 

Ciri groaned and crawled out from under the table, her hands and mouth purple from the berries in the pies. “It’s so boring though, I don’t care about all the people coming to the party tonight and their entire family history. I don’t want to go to the stupid party and have to dance with some stupid idiot boys who think that they can impress my grandmother and then marry me.” 

“Gods help any boys that want to dance with you, your highness. I am sure you will let them know exactly how you feel and all of us as well,” the druid replied with his usual dry humour. “Besides, it’s far too late for lessons now, your little adventures have seen to that. Your grandmother asked me to find you and send you off to get ready for tonight. She does not know half of the chaos you have caused today, and if you would like me to keep it between the three of us then I suggest you get yourself moving. Bard, unfortunately some visiting nobles decided to bring their own entertainment for the party, a gift to the queen we are told. Eist is most annoyed that we don’t get to hear your lovely song about the woman from Sodden for the twentieth time this winter, but we both know that having you attend would be an insult to the other bard. I don’t suppose you have some other business in Cintra to conduct tonight?” 

Jaskier grinned at the exhausted looking druid. He could well imagine the fight between Eist and Calanthe over that, and the druid must have been caught in the crossfire. This worked well for him anyway, he had wanted to go and find a better water source then the bathtub recently. “But of course. I would never want to inconvenience my most generous hosts. I have several people in the city I need to go and visit, so her grace releasing me from my duties tonight is an unexpected boon. You may want to mention to her grace though, I had heard several rumours about a certain group of monochromatic individuals who are expressing more interest in Cintra than they should. I do so hope that the guests she invited on her dear husband's behalf arrive before them." 

Jaskier gave Mousesack a meaningful glance, nodding when the druid's eyes widened in shock. Hopefully he would have better luck than him in talking to the Queen. She had already dismissed his worries as gossip and told him to mind his place if he wanted to remain at court. He couldn't abandon his little cub at a time like this , not only would that break the promise he had made to the memory of his greatest friendship, but he loved the girl as if she were his flesh and blood. He would fight all the armies of Nilfgaard if needed, but it seemed that this was the best he could do for now if he wanted to stay with her.

"Anyway I shall expect a full report of the party tomorrow morning, my little lion cub, and make sure you get a good earful of this bard. I need to keep an eye on the competition after all,” he joked, ruffling Ciri’s hair and staining it with the fruit juices on his own hand. 

Ciri shoved at him indignantly. “Why do I have to go if Jakier doesn't? We all know this other bard will be awful compared to you, I don’t see why we have to listen to bad music just to make some noble feel better about his bad choices.” 

“And that, your highness, is why your grandmother wants you to attend your lessons. There’s no point insulting your guests, especially not in a way that doesn't benefit you. There is a time and a place for that kind of behaviour. Now say goodbye and let’s get going.” Mousesack waited patiently, his expression long suffering but humour dancing in his eyes. It was clear to see the affection he had for his little charge, even with her moaning, and Ciri cared for him in return.

Ciri wrapped her arms around Jaskier in a tight hug. “Make sure you are back for tomorrow. I want you to teach me that song that Grandmother said no decent young girl should ever sing.” 

“I will teach you all sorts of songs, my little cub, as long as I hear that you behaved like a proper little princess at the party. I am sure Mousesack will be happy to let me know,” he bargained with a cheeky grin. The druid mouthed his thanks to the bard as the girl spun on her heels and took off down the hall, dragging her tutor with her and continuing to whine about the indignity of being expected to wear a pretty dress and dance with boys all night. 

Jaskier grinned and slipped out of the castle. He had talked to a few people working around the place and found that there was apparently a stream only a half hour walk away, so that was his plan for the rest of the day. He meandered slowly out of the palace and through the town that surrounded the keep, making sure to greet numerous people as he went with a jaunty smile and a wave to ensure there were stories of the bard venturing out among the townsfolk circulating and getting back to the castle. By the time he returned the next day there would be stories about him dining with several families, drinking in taverns until dawn, and engaging in all sorts of interactions with the local nightlife. People always wanted to claim some kind of connection with such a public figure and Jaskier wasn’t above using that to make sure no one was suspicious about where he went that night. 

Once he was out of sight of the townsfolk he picked up his pace to the quick lope he had recently gained. He moved slightly faster than a human, not as quick as a witcher to his annoyance, but he moved with a liquid grace that he wished he had had growing up. It would have saved him bruising himself all of the time as he tried to keep out of his parent’s way. Once he managed to get to the little river he had been told about, he let out a whoop of excitement and hurriedly removed his earring before launching himself into the water at top speed. 

It wasn’t until the water touched his skin that he realised just how hard he had been pushing himself by not finding a natural body of water to enjoy. He hadn’t realised just how tight and dry his skin felt until it was gone, as if his entire body was drying up like a husk in the sun. Jaskier grinned, pushing himself and swimming with the current as quickly as he could before throwing himself into the air and trying to fling his body around into a flip. Instead, he managed to get halfway around before slamming back down into the water on his back, laughing as the air was pushed out of his lungs. 

He swam further away from Cintra, wanting privacy, before he settled himself in some reeds and tried out his latest trick. He wove his hands through the water, concentrating on the shape he wanted it to take, before lifting a lute made of water from the river. He stroked the strings gently, enjoying the difference in this lute to his one from the elves. While his usual lute was an amazing piece of art and created a beautiful sound, using one made of water felt so natural to him, the instrument an extension of himself, and he loved how the sounds it created blended so well with his own voice. He reclined against the back and let himself get carried away by the music, eyes closed as the notes seemed to dance in the air behind his eyelids. This was his favourite part about being a fossegrim, besides knowing he wouldn't have to leave his puppies and kitten far too soon. He needed to get some good practice in so that he could perform for them in the spring. 


	16. Into darkness and howling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has a surprise when out for a swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is violence in this chapter but it is kind of cannon compliant so I am not currently tagging this. If you want me to tag, let me know, but at the moment I think it is kind of implicit that a witcher fic can get like this.

Jaskier became a little bit obsessed with the river. It seems that he had been denying himself too much staying in Cintra and he desperately needed that access with a natural source of water. Over the next few days, in between subtle reminders to Calanthe and anyone else who would listen that he had in fact told them about the incoming army which almost resulted in him being kicked out of the castle, he kept slipping away to the little river he had found. Most of Cintra was focused on the army mobilising and preparing to head to Marnadal, so the bard found it easier and easier to slip away in all of the commotion for a few stolen hours in the water. Calanthe had already led the majority of her forces off to meet the invading army amid cheers and pageantry a few days ago, the Lion of Cintra baring her teeth in her signature vicious smile as she rode at the front of her men. Now the entire city seemed to be waiting anxiously for news, caught in a whirlwind of fear and hope. 

Mousesack had been acting suspiciously as well. He had been keeping Ciri under his eye at all times, keeping her distracted and away from the bard. While Jaskier ached to be able to stay with his little cub and comfort her in the middle of all of this confusion, it did allow him to get out of the castle without her following. The druid even seemed to be encouraging the bard to stay out of the castle recently, making comments about how being out in nature must inspire his music and having food packed for him and left in his rooms for him to take with him. 

Jaskier was planning on investigating, there must be something they were hiding from him, just as soon as he got rid of the tight dry feeling he was experiencing every couple of days if he did not return to the river. The cold was making it worse, his fingers and toes in particular feeling as if they might dessicate and flake away as they grew colder and the blood moved away from his extremities. He needed to get to the river, to make sure he was as fit and healthy as he could be to protect his little lion cub if Nilfgaard made their way to Cintra. 

Jaskier dove headfirst into the river, removing his earring once he was in the water and that awful feeling in his skin started to abate. He smiled softly to himself, floating on his back and lazily playing with the water so that it arced in the air above him. He had needed a few minutes of quiet to himself, the constant panic and hubbub of the castle had been getting on his nerves lately. He felt so powerless, constantly wondering if he should just grab Ciri and run or trust Calanthe to protect her as the queen believed she could. 

The snap of a twig pulled him out of his day dreams. Jaskier slipped under the water so that only his eyes were above the surface, looking around cautiously. There was another rustle from the undergrowth and then Jaskier saw two men in black uniforms approach the river. The fossegrim slowly moved so that he was in the reeds watching them approach. 

"So do you think that the bitch will die or are we going to have to stab her again once we get to Cintra?" one man asked, bending down to refill his water bottle from the river. 

"Who cares about the old battleaxe. The commander got her good, she's going to die, when isn't that important. I'm more interested in what's going to happen to the women, are we going to be given some fun or is it just going to be business as usual?" his friend replied. Jaskier snarled silently, the water around him starting to bubble and boil. 

"I'm going to be so glad when we can get out of this shithole. Once Calanthe and her runt are dead, it's home sweet home for us." 

At this Jaskier lost it, launching himself at them with a shriek. The men screamed, trying to scramble away from the irate monster, but only succeeded in tripping over themselves as Jaskier's teeth found the neck of one of the men. He ripped the man's throat out, blood pouring down his own face as he stood over the remaining soldier. With a growl he made a quick gesture with his hand, relishing the screams as the man's body dried out and shrunk into itself rapidly, a small ball of liquid rising from his body as the fossegrim pulled it from his body. Jaskier grinned savagely, kicking at the two bodies, before diving back into the river and swimming towards Cintra as fast as possible. 

Once the river started to curve away from Cintra he burst out of the water, taking off at a sprint to get back before the army reached the castle. 

He remembered to slip the earring back on as he ran through the gates, slipping in amongst the wounded soldiers being brought back into the castle. People everywhere were panicking, looking for loved ones in the faces of the survivors or lining the streets wailing at the thought of what was to come. 

Jaskier shook his head to dispel the strangely familiar scent on the breeze. He didn’t have time to go satisfy his curiosity, he needed to find his lion cub now. As he was sprinting through the streets he could hear screams from the outskirts of the city. The army was closing in and he was running out of time to find Ciri. He went flying through the castle doors before coming to a halt at the sight of several Cintran soldiers facing him with swords in hand. 

“Who the hell are you?” one barked out, looking far too young to be facing this kind of threat. 

“The bard, Jaskier. I’m a guest of Queen Calanthe. Please, I need to get in, I need to make sure they know what’s coming.” Jaskier said, not wanting to start a fight when there was such bloodshed on the way. 

“I don’t know why the hell you think you deserve to be safe in the castle while the rest of us bleed, you little shit,” the man screamed, fear twisting his face. 

One of the other soldiers brushed his friend aside. “I’ve seen him playing that fancy little instrument around the castle. Let him in, we might need music to die to, boy.”

Jaskier sent him a pained smile before hurrying past, searching the halls for any familiar faces. He saw some of the kitchen staff armed with knives hurrying downstairs, clearly meaning to barricade themselves in somewhere. He nodded tightly to them, not stopping to share in their panic. 

He saw Mousesack come barreling down a hall, despair on his face. “Bard, thank the gods. Your witcher, he was in the gate house. Calanthe had him locked up, but he is the girl’s destiny. We need to make sure he finds her.”

“Mousesack, you look after Ciri. I’ll go find him, send her to the stables. If I can, I’ll send him there, if not I’ll meet you there and we can find him once we are out of this hell hole.” Jaskier said quickly, ignoring the concern in the other man’s eyes at the thought of the bard venturing out into the chaos below alone and instead spinning on his heels to dash back outside. It must have been Geralt that he had smelt earlier, the scent had reminded him of the witchers he had been travelling with for so long. 

Jaskier focused on the scent, running through the streets that were starting to fill with screaming people and soldiers in black. The Nilfgaardian armour seemed to gleam in the low light, the blood coating them reflecting the light back. Jaskier kept dodging soldiers, not wanting to get caught up in a fight, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the cries around him and the swords swinging at him. With a frustrated sigh he pulled the earring from his ear, immediately humming a tune that he had practiced on his friends as a first line of defense, one that left the listener in a trance so that he could escape safely. With any luck, the people of Cintra would have a few moments to try and flee as his magic left the invaders dazed and confused. 

Those closest to him stopped, swords lowering and crying subsiding, but there were too many people for him to control them all. 

Desperately, Jaskier hummed a bit louder, trying to force whatever magic he had to go that little bit further, to help just a few more people. It extended his little bubble of calm a few meters, allowing him to move faster through the streets in his search, but a dull throb set up behind his eyes. There was no way he would be able to keep this up indefinitely. 

He thought he caught a glimpse of the long white hair he had been searching for, moving forward with a cry of joy, but instead saw his darling Ciri, his brave little lion cub, being led out of a tunnel and towards the stables by Mousesack and a member of the guard. The druid spotted the bard, a look of shocked recognition on his face at the sight of the fossegrim, before hurrying the princess on. A large group of Nilfgaardians rounded the corner coming towards them, just as Jaskier’s grip on his song faltered. The men let out a cheer at the sight of Ciri’s small figure, surging towards her maliciously. 

With a snarl Jaskier leapt at the Black Ones, teeth bared and ripping into any flesh he could reach. A high pitched shriek rose in his throat, hanging in the air and sending men to their knees with blood pouring from their ears. More and more men kept pouring into the fight, until Jaskier could hardly see from the blood coating his face and the seething mass of bodies around him. He heard cries of ‘monster’ and ‘freak’ cutting into his heart the same way he felt swords pierce his skin, but he hardened himself to them. He would be as monstrous as it took to help save his cub. He would fight until he could no longer continue before allowing any one of these bastards to touch her. 

A sword slid into his side, the pain a burning brightness compared to the hacking pain he had been feeling before. Jaskier choked, blood pooling in his mouth, before it was pulled back. He looked into the eyes of the man who had just stabbed him, only a young man like so many others he had seen that day, and let out another unearthly screech. The men around him were blasted back from the force of his cry, screaming and clutching at their heads. 

Panicked, he turned like a caged wolf, looking for a way out. He saw a well in the middle of the square, and ran over to it. Just as he reached the well, he saw out of the corner of his eye another arm in that horrific black armour reach for him. He dove into the well, ignoring the way his body smashed into the walls as he fell into the water. There were several cries from above him and splashes where things were thrown into the water in an attempt to hurt him, but Jaskier surrendered himself to the instincts beating around in his head as he dove deeper into the well, letting the darkness consume him. 


	17. And I find you all unwoven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Slaughter of Cintra for Jaskier.

It was dark in the well, a comforting kind of dark that meant that nothing would hurt him. There was very little room in the well though. Jaskier did not know how long he had been curled up in a little ball at the bottom of this well anymore. 

At some point the water in the well had helped to heal his wounds, he had felt it burning into all of the points along his body where he had been cut and stabbed. He hadn’t known he could heal like this, but thankfully his body knew what to do on its own. It had done a wonderful job of keeping him alive, huddled in the dark and nibbling on the algae growing on the walls whenever his stomach grumbled. It had allowed Jaskier to slip away somewhere deep in his mind, somewhere there was no war, Cintra had never fallen, and his friends would wake him up at any moment for a day of travelling. 

Unfortunately, he was drifting back out of that safe place more and more. He was running out of algae to eat and his limbs were cramping horrifically. The only issue was, he had no way to get out of the well. To try and distract himself, he started singing to himself quietly. He was working his way through the songs he had written about his friends as a way to comfort himself when he heard noises at the top of the well. He stopped partway through _The Ebony Enchantress_ with a whimper, not wanting to have to deal with more soldiers coming back to ensure that everyone in Cintra was dead. 

“Jaskier...” he heard a voice calling. “Where the fuck are you, little lark? Your earring is here, please tell me you’re not one of these bodies here, I will be most annoyed if I have to resurrect you just to kill you again.” 

He thought he recognised that particular tone of begrudging worry, but he was far too deep in his own mind to be able to name it. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick or not, did the Nilfgaardians know his name? Did they know that he was trying to help Ciri? If they wanted to use him to find her then they would be heavily disappointed. 

There was more swearing and muttering before he felt something drop down into the well. He hissed involuntarily in shock and heard a triumphant “finally,” before there was a bright light and he found himself sitting on the ground beside the top of the well. He snarled, trying to unfurl himself from the ball he had been curled in to lash out at the voice but instead collapsed onto the floor as his limbs gave out. 

"Oh thank all the gods, you look like shit bard. Have you just been in there the whole time?" The voice said as gentle hands started checking over his body, ignoring the way he hissed when she found the tender point where that final stab wound still hadn't healed completely. 

Jaskier knew he should be trying to focus, to figure out who this was and if they were a threat, but when the voice told him to sleep in a gentle reassuring tone that something in his brain told him was probably a sign he was nearly dead he decided to trust this person and allowed himself to drift into sleep. 

* * *

Jaskier woke up feeling far too comfortable for someone who had spent an unspecified amount of time in the bottom of a well. He was on a bed somehow, which seemed to be far too nice for the way his life was currently going. 

“And the sleeping princess is awake. Took you long enough,” came the voice again as someone entered the room. 

“Yenna,” Jaskier croaked out, his throat aching horrifically. “How did you find me?”

“Well, I managed to cook up a locator spell for your earring, since it had my magic in it so it wasn’t too hard to get a lock on it. I had heard about the fall of Cintra, everyone heard of the slaughter that went on there, so I decided to go looking for you. I couldn’t let you get killed, you’re my ticket to getting my hands on the witcher’s artefacts next winter, so I portaled into Cintra and started searching. I should have assumed you would be in water somehow, but really Jaskier, a well? You looked like crap when I pulled you out.” 

Jaskier smirked at her. “You know I have to try and make life difficult for you. You would be so bored if I didn’t.” Then the memories of what happened before the well came back to him. “Where is she? Is Ciri ok? Did she get out safe?” 

Yennefer frowned at him. “The Lion Cub of Cintra, I haven’t heard beyond rumours. Some say she died in the attack, but others are saying she escaped. It would be hell to try and find her, if she is connected by destiny to Geralt then it will be safer to allow destiny to take its course. If you want, I can try and scry her? I would need something of hers but I suppose I can do it if you need to know she is ok.” 

Jaskier nodded desperately, needing to know his little cub was safe. I don’t have anything of hers though, we would have to go back to the castle and see what we can find. I’m sure I can get up and we can go now.” He started trying to pull himself up from the bed, wincing as his arms and legs burned with pins and needles and the spot in his side where the sword had pierced him ached fiercely. 

Yennefer pushed him back down onto the bed, smoothing his hair out of his face even as she fixed him with her signature smirk. “No, little lark, you know your witchers will have my head if I let you hurt yourself further rummaging through a castle after you’ve been stabbed multiple times and seem to have tried to starve yourself to death. You can stay here and eat some food. No one knows where this house is so you should be safe enough. I am sure that I can go look through a castle by myself. Those vultures in black moved on days ago so I won’t have to worry about trying to avoid them.”

Yennefer continued to bustle around the room, handing him some bread and cheese as well as a cup of something that smelt disgusting but was most likely good for him. He poked his tongue out at her before downing the mixture, gagging at the taste and immediately shoveling bread into his mouth. Yennefer sniggered under her breath at him before turning to him with some kind of salve in a jar. “Stay still and let me put this on what’s left of your heroic war wounds. Whatever you did has healed up the worst of it, but I can make sure there are no scars for you to have to explain to your many conquests.” 

She started spreading the salve onto the wound in his side first, glaring at the sight of the thick wound crusting over. “Thank you, my little kitten. For the salve and for looking like you are about to go and kill the people who put this here. They are all dead already, but you are welcome to resurrect them and have another go.”

“That reminds me,” Yennefer said before smacking him on the shoulder. “What in the name of the gods were you doing in a courtyard filled with dead soldiers who looked like their heads had exploded. Didn’t we teach you to run away, you idiot. You could have been hurt worse than you were or killed and what would we do then?” 

“They were after Ciri, honey. You know I couldn’t leave her unprotected. Besides, I think I might have been the one to do the head exploding thing. Apparently I can reach some notes I never could before and they happen to make blood come out of noses and other gross things happen. I can’t say it was something I enjoyed, especially the pointy swords and the stabbing, but there was something rather satisfying about the blood on my teeth and watching them writhe on the ground as I sang. I think with some proper practice I could be something my darling little puppies would be scared to face, not that I would ever use my amazing new powers for evil.”

Yennefer groaned as she finished dressing his wounds. “One little battle and you turn all bloodthirsty on me. I thought it was bad enough travelling with those two idiots and their impulse for violence, if you start too I’m going to lose my mind. Now lie back down and have a nap. That drink should have you out like a light in a few minutes and by the time you wake I’ll be back and ready to scry for the girl.” 

Jaskier shook his head in disbelief. “Of course you drugged me, you little witch. How sad that I am betrayed by my own friends, oh woe is me,” he wailed dramatically, fighting to keep the grin that was curving the corners of his mouth from growing. 

“Shut it, you little drama queen, and enjoy your nap. I’ll deal with your theatrics when I return,” she said. With a quick kiss to his forehead and another run of her fingers through his hair she was striding out the door and the crackle of a portal was the last thing he heard.


	18. When you think that you're bereft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Yennefer scry for Ciri.

Jaskier did in fact wake up before Yennefer returned and he decided to celebrate this by snooping through her things. First he found the rest of the food she had left out and grabbed an apple to continue his search. There was the usual things in her room, lots of the amazing dresses she wore, her makeup, and little trinkets she must have picked up. The one that confused him and that he was staring at when Yennefer returned was a large stuffed unicorn. 

"What in the name of all the gods is this thing?" Jaskier asked dumbfounded. 

"It's a unicorn. Surely even you can recognise it," she replied absently, beginning to gather things together for the spell she needed to cast. She kept rubbing at her eyes as she moved, blinking as if they pained her.

Jaskier spared her a disbelieving look before going back to staring at the unicorn. "I know what it is, my question is why do you have a life sized stuffed unicorn in your bedroom?" 

Yennefer smirked at him over her shoulder as she grabbed the last ingredient and moved to the table. "It's great for spicing up sex, it adds a certain ... magic to the act." 

Jaskier shook his head vigorously, trying to shake the image out of his head. "I did not need to know that about you. Ugh, I will never unsee that. Alright, more importantly, I assume you have everything you need to check on Ciri now?" 

"Yes, yes, sit down and let me focus. If you want to see how Ciri is then I need silence for a minute," she grumped goodnaturedly as she readied her spell. Jaskier slapped a hand over his mouth and waited quietly as she cast her spell. The mirror she had on the table seemed to fill with a swirling silver mist as she chanted softly before coalescing into a scene. 

Jaskier let out a gasp of joy as he saw Ciri looking relatively unharmed. She was curled up in a bed that looked like every interchangeable guest room in a tavern. She looked relatively unharmed, if a little thinner and dirtier than he was used to seeing her, but Jaskier was just so glad to see her looking healthy he let out a little squeak of excitement. The girl on the bed was twitching in her sleep, face twitching as if she were in the grips of nightmare. Jaskier's hands twitched with the urge to smooth her hair back from her face and comfort her.

He was anxiously examining the room for clues as to where it was to help him find his little cub when he saw her startle at some noise she could clearly hear and turn to say something with that defiant look she copied from her grandmother. Someone moved towards her, arms coming into view to pluck her from the bed before Jaskier saw a familiar shock of white hair and stern face bearing an unusually tender expression. The bard froze in shock as he watched the witcher gingerly pat her arm, clearly trying to reassure her after her nightmare. 

"Stop the spell," Jaskier said in a small, hollow voice. In the mirror Ciri collapsed against Geralt, winding a hand into his hair for comfort. "Yennefer, for the love of the gods, stop it now!" He smacked the mirror off of the table so that it flew into a wall and shattered. 

The sorceress stared at him in shock for a moment. "Jaskier..." she stated quietly.

"Leave it," he hissed, storming out of the room and out of the house. As he went he pulled the earring out, shoving it into his pocket and inhaling the brisk winter air for the scent of water. He followed his nose to a small lake behind the house and threw himself into the water. He ignored the scent of lilac and gooseberries that followed him before settling on the bank, instead focusing on assembling his lute made of water and began working his way through a series of aggressive scales. 

"Jaskier ..." Yennefer repeated hesitantly. The fossegrim ignored her, instead launching into a song he had learnt back at Oxenfurt about a man losing his lover to the sea. If he could just lose himself in the music, fall back into that dark little place he had gone to back in the well, then he wouldn't have to deal with these feelings sinking like a weight in his stomach. 

Somehow Jaskier was unable to drift away in the sing the way he wished he could. He could hear Yennefer sobbing gently at his song and the reminder that he was not alone, that there was someone who would come after him if he tried to outswim his problems, kept him there. 

As he came to the end of the song he allowed his voice to quietly fade, his fingers dripping blood into the lake from the force of his playing. He allowed himself to drift closer to the bank where Yennefer sat sniffling quietly and smearing her eye makeup as she wiped at her eyes. They were red, more so then the tears warranted, and a little voice in the back of his head piped up in concern that she had hurt them somehow.

"Is that truly how you feel about him? You were projecting your emotions in the song. Did he really break your heart that badly?" She said in a small voice. 

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. Ciri will be safe and that is what matters. It's all that matters." He refused to allow his voice to break as he spoke. He was a fossegrim, by the gods, and an Oxenfurt graduate to boot. He should be able to control his voice better than this. 

"Surely now that you know he has the girl you can go and see him. You can talk to him, make him see what he is missing and then you can join them to help look after her like I know you want to. I am sure she would welcome a familiar face in such trying times." 

Jaskier was already shaking his head before she stopped talking. "No, no. They are bound together by destiny, I would just be in the way. They are fated to be together. He will learn how to care for her and she will help him to think about something other than killing monsters. There's no reason for me to expect them to welcome me. I would just be a burden. Again."

"Oh, dear heart. I thought your witchers and I had cured you of this melancholy. You know me, you know I would not put up with anything less than the very best and I put up with you. What does that suggest to you?" she said, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. 

"That you were mistaken," he muttered under his breath, earning him a quick pinch to the cheek. "Come on, Yennefer. We all know I am a complete disaster. You went to Lettenhove, you would have heard all about what a waste of space and energy I am from my parents, how much they wish I had never been born. Maybe they were right. I was useless as Julian Alfred Pankratz and apparently I was useless as Jaskier the bard, so maybe I should give up this whole charade and just accept that I am a monster and remove myself from the human world." 

"No, what you are is a little idiot, but you are my idiot, and you are those two witchers' idiot and if you suggest anything as stupid as just giving up on it all again you will be one very sore idiot when I kick your ass all the way to Temeria and back," Yennefer said with a snarl, grabbing Jaskier by the arm and yanking him out of the water. "I did not go through all that shit fighting at Sodden, getting my eyes fixed and finding your sorry little ass to listen to you mope. Now you are going to come with me back into that house. If you don't want to go and see Geralt, then I will respect your wishes, but you will come inside and behave yourself. You will winter with me and then we will go and find your two witchers. Those two should be able to get you back into your usual annoying mood." She began marching him back to the house while he stumbled after her, shocked by the level of emotion in her voice and her talk about Sodden. What had happened while he was in that well?

The air around the mage was crackling with power as her emotions got the better of her and the display of power had a quiet thread of sound weaving out of Jaskier's throat and into the air around them to express his love in return. 

The sound made the mage smile to herself as she kicked open the door and threw her bard into a chair. "I've had more than enough of this rubbish. I am one of the most powerful and terrifying mages on the Continent, especially now so many have died, if you make me cry like a child again today I will have to hang you from this ceiling by your innards. I'm sure Lambert and Eskel would understand when I told them the drama you put me through." 

"I love you too, Yenna. Never make me leave you, please, I can't stand someone else telling me to leave." Jaskier sobbed brokenly, knowing her threats were the sorceress' way of showing how much her feelings for the bard terrified her. 

"I will never ask you to go, not like your parents did and not like that idiot witcher either. You know me, Jaskier, I want everything and I get everything I want." She sat on the floor in front of him, curling up against his legs like the cat he often called her. With his sorceress' head on his knees as she hummed the tune of _The Ebony Enchantress_ to him, Jaskier cried himself to sleep.


	19. Whispers from the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer and Jaskier talk about what happened while he was in the well.

It took a few days for Jaskier to get back to normal. Every time he started thinking about what he would do once the frost melted he felt that same wrenching feeling in his chest, the knowledge that he would not be able to go and look after his cub like he wanted because she was so much better off with the man he ... cared for. He wished he could forget the image he saw in the mirror, but the idea of Ciri and the witcher living happily without him, caring for each other and not even remembering the man who had dedicated so much of his life to caring for both of them, ripped at his heart. The fossegrim tried to convince himself that there was no reason for him to be so upset, he had Yennefer, Eskel, and Lambert, he did not need to pine for what he could not have. His stupid heart did not seem to listen, did not agree that he had more than a monster like him should ever wish for. 

Yennefer did her best to amuse him and keep him from thinking too much, but the sorceress wasn’t at her best either. Jaskier kept walking into a room to see Yennefer just sitting and staring at something. A few times he noticed the slight sheen of tears on her cheeks, and on occasion a painful red colour filled her usually bright violet eyes. Her eyes seemed to pain her, he often saw her rubbing at them or sitting with her eyes closed.

When he tried to talk to her about it she brushed him off, but he decided today was the day she would talk to him. After all, she kept telling him that if he was feeling sad he should talk to her, and what was good for the goose was good for the gander, or so he had heard. He was determined to help his friend, he had to prove that he was worth keeping around or she would leave him like everyone else in his life did. 

He walked into the little garden at the back of the house in Vengerberg they were staying in to find her sitting with her back against a tree staring at a small flower in her hands. She looked out of place in her usual balck and white dress nestled in a riot of colourful flowers. “Alright, Yenna. Time to face the music. You’re not acting like your usual terrifying self. What happened in Sodden that affected you so much?”

“Look how perfect this flower is, Jaskier. Have you ever just stopped and looked at them? So many beautiful sights that I never really appreciated until now, so many things that I might have missed out on.” Yennefer said in a small voice that had Jaskier looking over her again in alarm. She sounded so heartbroken. 

Jaskier sat on the floor next to her and looked at her flower. It was a cornflower, something that people often compared his eyes to. He had been given so many of them by lovers who thought they were particularly clever and witty, but he had never really sat down and looked at one the way Yennefer was. “It’s beautiful, honey. Such bright colours and perfect, tiny little petals.”

  
“I might never have seen one again. I might never have seen you again.” With that Yennefer collapsed in a wave of sobs, turning and burying her head in his chest as she clung to him. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing at her back and humming a soothing little tune to help her. He was glad he had taken to leaving his earring out while they were alone, his magic infusing his voice as he tried to calm his friend. 

“Honey, what happened to you? I’ve never seen you this upset and you know I would do anything to help you. Did someone hurt you? I can kill them, you know, I’ve found it quite easy with my new abilities.” Jaskier felt like he should be concerned by his sudden desire to bathe in the blood of those who had dared to hurt his friend, but he was coming to accept that he was no longer human, that he was a monster in the eyes of many and should only care about what those who cared for him thought. 

Yennefer chuckled wetly against his doublet. “My bloodthirsty little monster. You’re meant to kill the poor defenseless little woman, not offer to avenge her. You’re not very monstrous. Besides, it isn’t any one person’s fault. It’s this bloody war.” 

“How did you get caught up in the war, I thought you were above the petty squabbles of mere mortals?” Jaskier asked. He kept stroking her hair and holding her close. From the sounds of it, she had been as close to death as he had and the idea of her having died without him knowing terrified the bard. 

“The Brotherhood of Sorcerers decided that we needed to play more of a role in this war if we wanted to maintain any kind of power. A group of us were sent to Sodden under the command of Vilgefortz to fight just over a week after Cintra fell. It was madness, Jaskier, I’ve never seen that kind of hell. There were twenty two of us there, we should have been more than enough to stop any Nilfgaardian army. We didn’t realise they had mages of their own. Fourteen dead. Fourteen mages who had their immortal lives cut short. I watched as they died. I saw them being cut down, watched as Triss, one of my oldest friends in the world, was on the ground burning and bleeding.” She dissolved into tears again, clinging to the bard. 

He couldn’t imagine a scene like that, didn’t want to think about watching such powerful people brought low by war. How she managed to find him so soon after was beyond him. He felt tears in his eyes at the horror in her voice, at the idea that someone so strong and powerful could experience something that left them so shaken. A horrible feeling settled in Jaskier’s stomach, the idea that there was more to the tale than she had already told him sitting in his guts like a lump of lead. 

“During the battle, I encountered a mage from Nilfgaard. We fought and she managed to blind me. I won’t go into the details but I fled the battle ground, sure that I would be captured and killed with no way to defend myself. Tissaia found me and brought me back to Aretuza where I could be healed. I was so lucky. I was so close to being blind forever. For a few days, I even thought I deserved it, that blindness should be my punishment for having survived when so many of my brothers and sisters fell. Who was I to live while they died. Tissaia snapped me out of it, said that I was being as melodramatic as I was as a child and needed to honour the sacrifice of the fallen by living. Then I heard rumours of the monster that was said to have killed so many at Cintra. They were calling it an omen of death brought to life, a horrific demon that’s screams made men drop dead at its feet. I thought it might have been you, that there may have been some way you survived the battle, and as soon as my eyes were healed enough I came looking for you.” Here she stopped to smile tearfully up at Jaskier, cupping his cheek with a hand. 

Jaskier grinned back at her through his own tears. “An omen of death. I have to say, I am suitably flattered,” he joked, trying to lighten the darkness he could see behind her eyes. He wanted to chase it away for her, to see that blue-grey fire blazing in her eyes when she teased him or the intense focus she had when she looked at him like he was another puzzle that she had to solve. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, demon boy. I found your ass in a well living off of god knows what kind of weeds for a couple of weeks. You’re lucky that Tissaia had such effective healing potions on hand. I’m still having to put things in my eyes every so often to fix the blasted things. They keep getting so sore and tired.”

Jaskier kissed her gently on the forehead. “I’m so proud of you, my powerful, beautiful sorceress. You have been through so much and you are still so strong. I love you so much, my little kitten. Thank you for coming to save me when you were still so hurt yourself.”

Yennefer shoved at him weakly. “This isn’t becoming a regular thing. Being around you is going to ruin my reputation, I keep getting all mushy and emotional.” He could see her trying to pull her mask back around the frayed edges left by the battle. He knew that she would retreat back into that familiar dismissive attitude to hide the fear she felt at exposing herself like this, but he was so proud of her for daring to share it with him in the first place. 

“Your reputation is safe with me. The rest of the world is still absolutely terrified by you, my adorable little kitten. I feel honoured that I get to see this side of you, that you trust me enough to let me see the sides of you that you try to hide.” Jaskier said earnestly, holding her close to him. 

Yennefer allowed the embrace for a few moments more before rising to her feet, brushing the tears from her eyes briskly. “Yes yes, you’re privileged. Now let’s see what magic you have in you. I want to experiment some more. I was thinking over the winter about things we can test. I didn’t learn too much in Lettenhove, didn’t have time before I was summoned by the Brotherhood, so we will have to return there later.” Jaskier shuddered at the idea of returning to his old home but the woman kept talking, dragging him behind her through the garden to a clearing beside the house. 

“Alright, let’s see just how powerful your magic is. See if you can pull water from the ground here, I want to see how connected you are to the element.” Yennefer gestured at the soil in front of her expectantly. She clearly wanted to move on from the emotional conversation and throw herself into a more academic pursuit. If that was what it took to help his friend feel like herself again, he was willing to be her test subject for a while. He would do anything for his kitten, and maybe while they waited for spring to come so that they could join the witcher on the Path they would be able to help each other heal. 


	20. All that matters is that you're here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Yennefer spend the rest of winter together.

By the time the frost started melting off of the trees Jaskier and Yennefer were at each other’s throats. Both of them had been sniping at each other for weeks now, showing their love by winding each other up. The culmination of all of their little fighting was Yennefer taking offence at Jaskier saying that her dress made her look like “a frumpy old washer woman” (when in reality she looked like a regal goddess ready to be worshiped) and deciding to hack at the bard’s hair with a pair of shears she found lying around. Both of them stopped to look at the huge hunk of hair in the mage's hair in shock before Jaskier burst into tears. 

“How could you? I must look like an ugly little raggamuffin now,” he wailed. 

“I’m so sorry, I can fix this, I promise,” Yennefer panicked, trying to shove the hair back onto this head as if it would magically reattach. 

Jaskier grabbed the hunk of hair from her and shook it in her face. “Do you hate me this much? Did you need to make me look a mess to feel better about yourself?” Yennefer shook her head in panic, trying to grab the hair back off of him. They fought over the lock of hair, causing it to fall all around them until both of them were coated in it. 

They paused, looked at each other, and then burst into laughter. Clinging to his sorceress’ shoulder, Jaskier felt the side of his head where there was a huge path missing. “I didn’t think you would actually do it! You looked so terrified when you realised what you had done,” he wheezed through this laughter. “You’re going to have to cut the rest now, or I’m going to look like a scarecrow.” 

“I wasn’t thinking, I was just so frustrated and you were being such a little shit. You should have seen your face though, I thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head,” she replied in between giggles. She carded her fingers through his hair consideringly. “I think I have a potion that could grow it all back, I’ll give that a try before I start hacking at it all.” 

Jaskier nodded and helped her to gather the ingredients she would need, wincing at the idea of some of them going anywhere near his lovely hair. Drowner brains did not sound like something that one should use to wash their hair in any world. 

When Yennefer finished the potion she motioned the bard over to the bath. He climbed in happily enough, used to bathing in front of her as both of them loved to relax in a hot bath at the end of the day and they often spent their winter evenings lying in a tub each with a glass of wine while they soaked. After Yennefer gently dunked his head under the water, she started rubbing the foul smelling gunk through his hair. “Usually it’s you washing my head, not me doing this for you. I can see why you like it. It’s ... pleasing to care for someone you care about in this way.”

“You know you love me, Yenna, that’s why you got so grumpy and cut all my hair off. You just love me so much you had to take it out on my poor hair.”

“Hush you, before I drown you in this bath. You were just as bad, calling me frumpy. I think it’s about time we start travelling to find your witchers. If we spend much more time with just the two of us, one of us is going to lose something that even I can’t regenerate.” Jaskier laughed in agreement, daydreaming about what they would do once they found the witchers again. 

“Alright you, rinse this out and we can see what happens. It should take a few hours to get going, so if we pack our stuff and hit the road, you should have your hair back by the time we reach the next town.” Yennefer said, moving away from the bath and starting to gather her things. “We won't portal, I feel like you need to get all of your energy out and a nice long journey should keep you manageable until we reach your boys and then they can deal with your insane hyperactivity.” 

Jaskier grinned as he dunked his hair under the water, rubbing vigorously to get all of the ick out of his hair. Once he felt clean again, he jumped out of the bath and at Yennefer before she could stop him. “Thank you for fixing my hair,” he said in a singsong voice as he rubbed his dmap skin all over her silk dress. 

She swore at him and shoved him away, looking at him in disgust before clicking her fingers and fixing her dress. “You’re so lucky you're cute or I would turn you into something small and slimy and leave you behind. Now get your stuff, we leave in ten minutes.” 

He giggled at her and got moving. Knowing his little kitten, she would leave him behind faster than he could blink if he didn't keep up with her. 

* * *

It only took them a couple of weeks on the road to find the witchers. Yennefer had been casting a vague locator spell every couple of days to check whether they were heading in the right direction and they finally ran into the boys in an inn in a small village outside Ban Ard. The witchers walked in as Jaskier was performing _The Ebony Enchantress_ , his kitten perched in a corner with a glass of wine enjoying the show with a smirk, and he immediately merged the song into _Toss a Coin_. The audience went wild as they saw the witchers, plying them with free drinks and food as they sang along with the bard. The two men accepted the gifts awkwardly before joining Yennefer at her table, glaring at her when she turned her smirk on them. 

Jaskier desperately wanted to join them, to give his witchers all the cuddles and love he was sure they had been denying themselves for the winter, but he had promised to perform for a few hours in return for a room and he also needed to get some money behind him if he wanted to treat his witchers. Instead, he had to watch Lambert and Eskel start talking to Yennefer.

Yennefer very quickly dominated the conversation, saying something that had both men pause, look at the bard in horror, and then turn back to the sorceress with that complete focus they usually only used on a hunt. Jaskier’s voice wobbled on a note for a second as his heart leapt into his throat. Sweet Melitele, what was she saying to them to make them look at him like that. 

He finished the last few songs of the set sneaking glances at his friends every few minutes, wincing when he saw the stony looks of the men’s faces. When he took his final bow, he loosened the collar of his doublet, collected the coins thrown at him, and headed to the table his friends sat at as if heading to the gallows. 

“Lambert, Eskel, fancy seeing you in a place like this!” Jaskier tried for a cheerful tone, hoping to gloss over whatever had put that look on their faces. 

“Up to the room. Now.” Lambert grit out between his teeth. Yennefer was cackling in her spot at the table as both men moved to grab the bard by an arm each and march him up to his room. They were clearly following his scent from when he had left his things in the room earlier, as they did not say a single word until they dropped him onto the bed. 

“So, it’s great to see you guys. How was your winter?” Jaskier asked nervously. 

“A fucking SLAUGHTER Jaskier, we have to hear from Yennefer that you were in the middle of a fucking slaughter. What the hell were you thinking?” Lambert yelled. A vein was throbbing in his forehead and he kept flexing his hands in anger. Eskel was standing beside him looking just as mad, a change from his usual habit of trying to rein his younger brother in. 

“I didn’t mean to get caught up in it all, it just kind of happened,” Jaskier protested, looking between the two men with wide eyes.

“Caught up in it all? You get caught up in a bar fight, bard, not a bloody massacre. You could have died! How could you go and get yourself in this much trouble when we were stuck in the bloody fucking mountains without any idea you were about to die?” Lambert ranted angrily. 

Yennefer walked into the room behind them and pulled up a chair. “Leave the little idiot alone, Lambert, you’ve yelled at him enough. Besides, the little fossegrim did well enough without his big scary guard dogs beside him. I found him in a well with almost thirty men dead around him.” 

“You killed that many men by yourself?” Eskel asked cautiously. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, now you want to stop yelling at me. You two are so bloodthirsty. Yes, I killed a whole lot of the assholes. They were after Ciri and they stabbed me. I wasn’t going to just roll over and let them kill me like you seem to expect.” Jaskier said with a huff. “I don’t even get a proper hello and we travelled weeks to come and meet you two before you started getting caught up in your hunts for the season. And Yennefer gets to join some ridiculous last stand at Sodden and that's completely fine, but gods forbid the bard gets into trouble.” He turned and crawled up onto the bed, shucking his doublet and pants so he was just in his small clothes. If they were going to be rude then he would just head to bed and ignore them. 

Lambert and Eskel quickly took off their armour and started trying to join him on the bed for one of the puppy piles they had enjoyed so much last season. 

“Who do you think you’re cuddling up to now, hmmm? You were just super rude to me.” Jaskier snarled, pulling away from them when they reached for him. Both men recoiled at his words, hovering on the edge of the bed as if they were unsure if they should flee or press their case. 

“Oh for the love of the gods. You two are too adorable to be mad at. Come here,” he said, pulling them both onto the bed and worming his way under his two witchers in his preferred sleeping spot. “If you’re rude to me again though, I’ll cut your hair like Yennefer did to me.” 

“That reminds me, when the hell did you grow your hair so long, Jaskier. It’s nearly down to your shoulders now,” Eskel asked, running his hands through the longer than usual locks. 

“Blame the bloody witch. She thought she could fix my hair from where she cut it, now I can put the bloody thing up in a bun if I want. She won’t let me cut it either, says it’s her turn to be able to play with someone’s hair all the time,” Jaskier groaned. As much as he complained, he was enjoying the longer hair. It made a nice change for a bit and he would keep it a little longer he thought.

Yennefer grinned and launched herself onto the bed in her usual shift. Both witchers shifted uncomfortably for a second before manhandling her so that she was cuddled beside Jaskier with Eskel behind her and Lambert on the opposite side of the bed with Jaskier against his chest. “Stop gossiping like a bunch of old washerwomen. I’ve been missing these snuggles all bloody winter, so you will be indulging me as much as I want for rescuing the little fossegrim from his well.” 

The men shared a resigned look above her head and settled in for a nap, all together again. Jaskier was so relieved to be back with his puppies and his kitten, he could almost ignore the two missing pieces that ached in his chest.


	21. Tear me up and burn me up and rip me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his friends visit Lettenhove.

Travelling with his mage and witchers again was exactly what Jaskier had thought he wanted. He had been dreaming of nice, relaxed travelling with his favourite people, visiting villages when they wanted to pick up a contract and staying in the woods when they just wanted to be alone. 

What it turned into was an exercise in patience. The witchers were hovering over him as if at any moment hundreds of Nilfgaardian soldiers would come pouring out of the woods to murder him and Yennefer kept making snide comments about what she had learnt in Lettenhove but refusing to elaborate beyond “I think we need to go to Lettenhove and you can have a little chat with your parents.” 

While visiting his parents was the very last thing he ever wanted to do in his life, the two witchers had latched onto that idea as a safe adventure for their poor danger prone little fossegrim and nagged him continually about taking them there. It was enough to drive a man to distraction, especially as Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to explain why he did not want to go there and so had no real way to stop the constant questions. 

“Are you ashamed to introduce us to your parents? We can pretend that we don’t really know each other, pretend we just met on the road if that makes it easier for you,” Eskel said quietly. 

“Family is important,” Lambert echoed. “Well, some family is. My father was an ass, but yours have to be much better. We would never embarrass you in front of your parents. We just think that Yennefer might be right, there might be things you need to learn about yourself from them.” On a normal day, Jaskier would have leapt on any scrap of information about the childhood of one of his witchers, but he was far too worked up to investigate further. 

“Fine then. We’re not too far away, that last bloody nest of ghouls wasn’t too far outside Kerack. If you lot want to meet my bloody parents so much, then by all means, let’s go visit with them. You can see once and for all why I have nothing to do with them.” Jaskier conceded angrily. He continued to make his displeasure known, sulking the entire way to Lettenhove and scowling at any attempt to talk him out of it. 

Once they arrived in the small village, Jaskier felt himself slip into the rigid posture of his childhood, back ramrod straight and chin up even as his eyes stayed fixed on the floor. He followed silently as Yennefer led the way to his family estate, ignoring the whispers he could hear the village folk making about the return of the little lord Julian. Gods, he hated that name. 

When the sorceress knocked on the front door, Jaskier didn't try to hide behind Lambert and Eskel the way a small voice in the back of his head wanted. Instead he stood beside the mage, stiff as a board and eyes trained down, waiting like a dog about to be beaten. He hated the way he reverted to this here, the way minutes in this shithole of a village had him falling back into habits it had taken him years to get rid of. 

A young woman Jaskier did not know opened the door, looking down her nose at them all. "Can I help you?" she said snobbily. 

"Yes, I need to see the Count and his wife. You may tell them that their son has come to see them." Yennefer said in her most regal voice, looking at the girl with her best sneer. 

The girl sputtered something in surprise, ushering them into the foyer and rushing off to inform the owners of the house. Yennefer turned to fix the others with a smug smile before noticing the awkward way Jaskier held himself. "Are you alright?" she asked him quietly, resting a concerned hand on his shoulder. 

Jaskier flinched back violently at the touch before giving her a tight nod and smile. He did not want to be here with the memories drifting around him like ghosts. He just had to hold it together for however long it took Yennefer and the boys to satisfy their curiosity and then he could leave and never come back. Yennefer narrowed her eyes at him but did not question the action. She clearly wanted to find out more about why he had been glamoured and how he had never known about his nature. 

Lambert and Eskel both moved closer to him, crowding the bard in a show of silent support. Jaskier felt the presence of two bigger people behind him blocking off his escape and had to resist the urge to bolt. His hands were shaking with the need to get away, to find the nearest body of water and lose himself in its currents. 

They only had a moment to pause before the girl was back and leading them to the sitting room. Jaskier allowed the others to move ahead of him, unconsciously wanting a human barrier between him and his parents. As they were ushered into the room he saw his parents sitting ramrod straight in their chairs, perfectly dressed and poised like he remembered. 

"Julian, how... unexpected. Introduce us to your friends. You must excuse his manners, we tried to teach him but he was rather slow as a child," his mother said in her usual faked accent. She looked as if she had just bitten into a lemon. His parents were obviously as pleased to see him as he was to be home. 

He had always hated that contrived drawl, the way both if his parents tried so hard to sound important. He had never been able to perfect that voice, no, that was a lie. He had been able to, mimicking voices and sounds came naturally to him. He had refused to do it how they wanted, hating the way it felt in his mouth, as if he had a mouthful of broken glass he had to keep from stabbing him with every word. 

"Mother, father, may I present the sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg and the witchers, Eskel and Lambert of the school of the wolf. Yennefer, Eskel, Lambert, may I present the Count and Countess of Lettenhove, my parents." Jaskier said, complete with flourishing gestures as he announced names. His voice remained even, although he noticed the way his hands trembled. 

He saw his friends flick their eyes over him assessingly while his parents eyed him with an air of disappointment. He didn’t know why he tried. He always ended up ruining it anyway. 

"And why have you brought a mage and two ... men of action, " here his father looked as if he could smell the gore of every monster the two men had ever killed, "to our home. Surely you have some reason for returning." The man’s hand twitched in a familiar action, as if the urge to strike his son was already burning in his hands. This had to be a new record, it usually took more than a few minutes before he had annoyed his family enough for them to want to beat him. 

"We wished to ask you a few questions regarding Jaskier's childhood." Yennefer looked at his parents expectantly. She obviously hadn't encountered them when she had come to Lettenhove in the winter, she must have stayed in the village trying to gain information from them before approaching his family. He was surprised she had not heard enough from the village folk to know better than to speak to his parents in that way, or to expect that they would have any kind of interest in helping their own son. 

The Count and Countess looked at Yennefer as if she were a pile of manure. Jaskier tried to hide the knee jerk reaction he had to that look, the need to get away or apologise before it got worse. "I see that you have the same level of refinement as our son then. The correct way to address a Count is as  _ my Lord _ , girl." Jaskier curled in on himself as much as he could without losing the posture he knew his parents expected from him, not wanting to watch the showdown that was about to begin. 

Both Eskel and Lambert moved to stand menacingly on either side of the sorceress even as her eyes blazed with violet fire and her hair crackled with power. "And the correct way to address someone who has the power to reduce both you and the shithole you are trying to pass off as an estate is with a modicum of respect," she fired back. 

"You dare to come into my home, in my land, and speak to me like this. Julian, you and your ... companions can leave. We had to put up with the embarrassment of you running away to become some common tramp, do not shame us by bringing that life here. We did our best to raise you properly, even knowing what a miserable excuse for a child you were. We should have left you in the woods as a child like the wise woman said. You were meant to be the answer to our prayers after what happened to your sister, but you proved to be even more of a mistake than she was." 

By this point the Count was screaming in Jaskier's face. Yennefer seemed to be caught up in her own memories, standing frozen in the face of such hatred, while the two witchers didn't seem to know how to react. They were both looking to Jaskier for their lead, but the bard was helpless in the face of his father's anger. It was taking everything he had not to curl into a ball to try and protect himself from the blows that usually accompanied such an outburst. His mother was nodding her agreement. He knew better than to look to her for help, she was just as likely to join in with any punishment he was given than to try and help. 

Jaskier’s father was all wound up now, continuing his tirade with no sign of slowing down. The bard could only hope that Yennefer would learn all she wanted as he screamed at them, he surely would not be returning again. "When the bastards took our daughter's mind, we left offerings to them, and hoped that they would leave us behind. Then they attacked your mother in the woods, so we hired one of those thugs like the ones you have brought here. They reassured us we would have no more problems, then you were born. You were a freak, Julian, a curse upon our house. It was bad enough that our daughter was useless, but then to have the druids tell us that if we got rid of the monster masquerading as our son there would only be more horrors, it was too much. We had them take you away and fix you as much as they could.” 

Jaskier looked at his father in surprise. His parents had always hated any sign of magic, calling both mages and druids con artists who preyed on the uneducated. They must have been truly desperate for him to be an ordinary child to seek out the help of those they hated. 

The Countess took over the story, examining Jaskier as if he were a worm. “We tried to make you a normal human, we tried to beat the freakishness out of you and raise you properly. And when you left, we thought our trials were over. You should have done us the decency of never darkening our doorstep again, of dying in a ditch somewhere or being put down like the monster you are." 

At this the witchers moved, Eskel gently grasping Jaskier's shoulders and pulling him back under his shoulder while Lambert moved to stand in front of the bard with a hand on his sword. 

"You do not talk to him that way," Lambert snarled. "I have seen thousands of monsters in my life, and the only ones in this room are you. Fuckers like you make me wonder if I really am killing the right kind of monsters." 

The Count recoiled, calling for guards at the top of his voice. The Countess fainted dramatically into her seat at the threat of two witchers. Jaskier’s legs gave out on him, the grip of the witcher behind him the only reason he was not in a ball on the floor. Eskel was gripping his shoulders hard, almost shaking the bard like a ragdoll in his rage at the way his friend was being treated. . 

Yennefer seemed to snap out of whatever memory she was stuck in, turning to check on Jaskier quickly before marching up to the Count. "You are a miserable little maggot. Your son is everything good and bright in this world, everything that you are not. Now tell us where his sister is and we will take her with us. You clearly do not deserve to have children if you treat them like this, so we shall give her the life you never would." 

The Count smiled nastily at that. "Good luck with that. If you want the little bitch, you can go dig her up. She drowned herself in the river a week ago, muttering some nonsense about wanting to see the river man again. Daft bitch." 

That broke through Jaskier's haze. His mind filled with the image of his darling Maddy, stuck with these people her whole life. His poor sister, he should never have left her. 

He ripped the earring from his ear, ignoring the flash of pain as his ear ripped in his fury. He lunged at his father, serrated teeth bared and a horrific shriek on his tongue. The man screamed, tripping over himself in his haste to get away. 

Eskel grabbed Jaskier around the waist, pulling him away from his target. The man was on the floor sobbing now, a growing puddle on the floor under him that stank.

"Come on, Jaskier. These people do not deserve your anger," Eskel said soothingly trying to restrain the furious fossegrim. Jaskier turned and snapped his teeth threateningly at the witcher. 

"Allow me, boys," Yennefer said. She pulled a purple powder from a pocket and blew it gently into Jaskier's face. He snarled at her, still struggling to get free even as his limbs seemed to get heavier and heavier. The last thing he saw before his eyes slid closed and his body went limp in Eskel's arms was Yennefer and Lambert advancing on his parents as the Count's men came barrelling through the door. 


	22. I’ll run from this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer explains what happened in Lettenhove.

Jaskier had the headache to end all headaches. He woke up in his sleeping roll in the middle of a forest with a fire glowing beside him. Everything seemed idyllic, but he wanted to rip the heads off of the bloody noisy little birds that had decided to sing until their throats burst right beside him. He snarled weakly before letting out a harsh little refrain, causing the birds to fly away with squawks of terror. With a grin, the fossegrim buried himself deeper in his bedding, about to try and sleep off the headache, before his memories slammed back into his mind. 

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?” he shouted, jumping out of the bed and looking around viciously. “I will rip their fucking heads off and feed them to the pigs.” 

“How lovely to see you awake, sleeping princess. Sit down and calm down, your delightful parents were dealt with.” Yennefer said, guilt making her tone slightly more aggressive than she would otherwise be. 

“Yen, maybe now isn’t the time to rile him up,” Eskel cautioned, looking at the way the fossegrim crouched in place with an unearthly hum falling from his lips.

“Where are they, Yennefer. I’m going to kill them for what they did to her. They let my sister die!” Jaskier howled, rage burning in his chest. 

“As I said, Lambert and I dealt with them. No child should have to kill their own parents, no matter how much they deserve death. Yours have met with a fate much worse than death for people like them.” The sorceress had a smug little grin on her face that irritated the shit out of Jaskier at the moment. All he wanted was to see those assholes suffer at his hands, not hear that someone else had decided to punish them. 

“What did you do?” he growled. 

“Your lovely witcher and I decided to make them pay. They wanted everyone to respect them and their position, but they forgot that they serve at the mercy of the King of Kerack, a man named Tarrand. I thought that I would remind them of the fact that they are not almighty rulers. Lambert had to deal with the men he had called in to protect him, but I think your little witcher here rather enjoyed that. Eskel was busy looking after you, he was quite concerned about you taking a little nap and getting caught in the crossfire. I decided to take the time to have a little look in your parents minds, see what they knew about you and your glamour.” The sorceress seemed far too pleased with herself, so he doubted it had been as quick and painless as it was when she occasionally dipped into his mind. 

Yennefer looked at him consideringly before she continued. Clearly she was worried about how he would take this next part, but there was no pity for him in her eyes, something he loved her for. “There was rather a lot that they hadn’t shared. It seems that your sister was attacked by a fossegrim she had befriended as a child. She was at the river near your home singing with it until your parents sent men to retrieve her. They attacked the fossegrim and Madeline was caught in the fight. When they recovered all of the men, they were in the same state as her. It seems the fossegrim had used a song to render them all unable to attack and Madeline’s state was the result.” 

“Fuck,” Jaskier hissed. The idea of his beatufiul sister being the victim of a stupid mistake, her entire life changed becasue the people in that crappy little village didn’t know how to deal with anything different in any way other than with contempt and violence, broke his heart all over again. How could the world be so cruel, to take his sister from him a mere week before he returned. He never should have left her there, but he had thought she was safe, safer than she would have been with him. 

“Then a year later your mother went to that same river after the village folk had told her rumours of a beautiful man who played exquisite music. She had some stupid fantasy about bringing him back to court, having him as a worthy lover for one such as here and using him to get back at her husband for his infidelity. Instead, she found the same fossegrim that had been friends with Madeline. The fossegrim recognised her and hid from her. She decided to get a charm from a passing hedge witch, one that would make her irresistible to any man she chose. The idiot used the charm and seduced the fossegrim, thinking that once she had slept with him she would have some sway over him. Instead, he left his river, probably deciding there are much safer places than by a village where he keeps being attacked and charmed.” 

“Not long after, your mother realised she was pregnant. She fed your father some bullshit about being attacked by the same monster that had hurt Madeline as a way to save her reputation, and the pair of them hired a mage to help them to ... avoid the problem.” Yennefer barely hid her wince at this. Jaskier was far too numb to react, of course they had hated him even before he was born, there was no surprises here. 

“The mage immediately sensed the magic in you, because of course you are such a terrifying and powerful being that you were exuding magic from the womb,” her she sent him a teasing smile, clearly wanting to reassure him as much as possible. “He said that getting rid of the baby would be a crime against nature and magic, that one such as you was already fated to come into this world and that they would have to find a way to live with that reality. He helped the lie along with the idea that doing anything to damage you irreparably would cause a curse to fall onto your house that would lose them their land and prestige. Your delightful parents were suitably terrified and kept you, but spent the entire pregnancy looking for a method to hide their greatest shame.” 

“Eventually they managed to coerce some druids into helping. The bloody fool probably thought they were doing the world a great service, helping to protect one of the nature spirits that they loved so much. Whatever the reason, they cast a rather powerful glamour on you, one that took a circle of 12 druids several days to cast, ending with your birth to seal it in blood and life. Hence the reason even I could not sense it until your own innate magic had weakened it so much over time that it crumbled away.” 

“Once the glamour was cast, it was meant to render you a normal mortal child. Unfortunately for them, it couldn’t completely suppress your nature. You were always going to be musically gifted and have a penchant for life outside of the villages and cities. You don’t need me to tell you how your parents reacted to any differences you showed.” 

“After seeing all this in their weak little minds, I decided that death was far too easy for people like this. Your witchers had dealt with the others rather well, so I asked them if they would like to express their opinions on your treatment themselves with the condition that they could cause no permanent harm. I have to say, I am rather impressed with how creative you two are,” here Yennefer sent the two men a pleased little smirk. “It was rather pleasing to watch. Anyway, to come to the matter I know you are so excited to hear about, I cast a small little charm that will allow them to feel all the pain that the witchers inflicted on them, with no outward cause for them to heal, everytime they are cruel or unkind to someone until they repay that person with an act of kindness of the same magnitude. I think it is much more fitting that they have to live out the rest of their time performing acts of charity and actually using their political position to improve the lives of others, especially given how much they tried to snuff out one of the happiest, most generous souls I have had the pleasure of knowing.”

Jaskier considered the words of the mage carefully, looking from her to the two witchers consideringly. A small part of him still wanted to go back to Lettenhove, to rip them limb from limb and revel in the feeling of blood on his skin as payment for the pain they had put him and Maddy through, but he knew that if he went down that road he could easily become the kind of monster his darling boys would then have to slay. “Fine. But only because I rather enjoy the idea of them knowing exactly what they did. Especially to poor Maddy, she deserved so much better than what they gave her.” 

He saw Lambert let out a sigh of relief at that, clearly concerned that the bard would have wanted to inflict the pain himself. The two witchers moved hesitantly towards their bard, eyeing him cautiously even as they opened their arms wide. Jaskier let out a strangled noise before launching himself at them, pulling their arms around him so that he was squashed between the two walls of muscle. “She’s gone,” he kept mumbling as he sobbed, giving himself over to the pain and sadness inside him. “I should have saved her, I should never have left her there.” 

“You could never have known,” Yennefer said, coming over to them and wriggling her way into the middle of the hug with him. “She wouldn’t want you to torment yourself over this, not from what I saw of her in your parents minds. Some of the village folk would sing your songs in the house, and everytime she heard them she would have the most amazing smile on her face. You can serve her best by spreading that joy across the Continent, Jaskier, honour her that way rather than dwelling on what could have been.”

Jaskier dissolved into tears in their arms, the words to a new song drifting through his mind. He sniffed and started crooning a lullaby to himself. He would write a beautiful song about his sister, something about a maiden playing in the river, something where nothing bad ever happened to anyone and all was light and happiness.


	23. You’d reply with a glint in your eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team have an unexpected guest.

#  You’d reply with a glint in your eye 

The days following their trip to Lettenhove were very subdued. Jaskier spent hours sitting by himself, working out lyrics to the song he would write for his sister. The others knew not to interrupt him when he was in that mood, leaving him to work through his grief and waiting for the long hugs that followed once he returned to them. There had been a couple of screaming arguments about the fact that Jaskier had never wanted to go to Lettenhove in the first place which ended with Yennefer crying and explaining that she had just been trying to help in the only way she knew and the witchers adopting that crestfallen expression they had when they knew they had hurt him. He had been unable to hold a grudge, the weight of his grief and his need for their friendship weighing against his anger. 

They continued on in this vein, moving slowly towards the next village with the aim of finding a contract for Eskel or Lambert to take, until they were startled one evening by the sound of a portal as they sat around the campfire. 

Yennefer immediately sprang to her feet, facing the opening portal with a wary stance and the usual blank mask she presented to outsiders. The mask dissolved into a mix of emotions when a redheaded woman walked out of the portal towards her. 

“Triss,” Yennefer said evenly. “What brings you here?” She made no move to approach the other woman, waiting for her to come to her with that same regal bearing she deployed when she wanted to look powerful. The small assertion of dominance didn’t escape Jaskier, who grinned to himself at his kitten’s theatrics. 

“Yennefer,” Triss replied in a pleased tone. She hugged the other woman easily, clearly much more openly affectionate than Yennefer. “It’s been far too long. Where have you been hiding yourself?” 

Yennefer returned the hug briefly before holding her at arms length as if looking her over. “I’m hardly hiding, Triss. I’m merely appreciating a change of pace. I’m sure you can understand, given what we all went through at Sodden. How are you? I can see that your hair has regrown, but are you well?” 

The mage laughed hollowly at the question. “I’m well enough. There will be no more low cut dresses in my future, but at least we survived. There were many not as lucky as us, so we must be happy. That’s what Tissaia keeps telling me anyway, and you know we can’t argue with the rectoress on these matters. But who are your lovely travelling companions? I’ve been so rude, barging in and ignoring them all.” Triss turned her gaze on the others, a curious light in her eyes. 

Yennefer gestured to her companions, Eskel and Lambert standing with swords at the ready and Jaskier reclining by the fire lazily. “Triss, meet Lambert, Eskel, and Jaskier. Boys, this is Triss Merigold. We both attended Aretuza and fought together at Sodden.” 

The two witchers nodded warily, sheathing their swords at Yennefer’s calm tone and sitting down with Jaskier while still looking like they could spring into action at any moment. Lambert had assumed the stoic, argumentative expression that he wore with strangers, while Eskel had already let a portion of his hair flop down over his face, turning so that his scar was shadowed. The bard waved at their guest with an easy grin on his face despite the need he felt burning in his fingertips to gather his puppies to him and hold them close. They were just unused to other company, there was no danger for him to protect them from. 

“Oh, you must tell me more about these lovely men, Yennefer. They almost hum with magic. I can understand why you are keeping them for yourself.” Triss looked at the two witchers with an almost predator air. Jaskier bristled a bit at the sudden tension emanating off of them and moved to sit between them so that he could knock his knees against theirs. 

“Eskel and Lambert are more than capable of answering any questions you may ask them. They aren’t dogs to bark on command. If you want to know more about them then join us. We were just relaxing for the evening before turning in. And you can tell me why you came all this way to see me as well.”

“Oh Yennefer, I almost forgot in all the excitement. I was trying to help out with a pest problem they are having in Temeria. Normally they would just hire a witcher, but they haven’t seen one yet this season and the death toll is starting to rise. King Foltest was starting to get concerned, the town is one of the major exporters of food for the royal court and if it continues on the way it is then they may not be able to keep up the supply. I was sent to try and sort out the problem but it seems to be some infestation of monsters in the main water source for the town. I thought I would get you to give me a hand with it, I can’t say I’m quite up to my usual standards after Sodden and you were always better than me at such ... aggressive magic.” 

Yennefer looked at her friend calculatingly. “I guess you are in luck then. You might want to talk to Lambert and Eskel. They are both witchers, from the school of the Wolf no less, and would be able to help you out.” 

Triss turned to the two men in surprise. “Really? Well, that certainly explains a lot. I would be most grateful if you would help me with this. It is a bit outside of my area of expertise and I would be so excited to get to watch some witchers at work again. I’ve only met one before, from your school as well I think, and seeing him in action was definitely something to behold.”

Both Lambert and Eskel turned to Jaskier, watching carefully as he flinched at the mention of another witcher. “If Jaskier and Yennefer are willing to accompany us, I’m sure we can help. There would of course be a price for this.” Eskel said. Lambert nodded his agreement but Jaskier could see the two men almost vibrating with their eagerness for a good hunt. They hadn’t had much opportunity yet this season what with the trip to Lettenhove and the two witchers were clearly excited to get back to the work they knew so well. 

Yennefer nodded, leaving all of them looking at Jaskier. Triss seemed confused that the small, extravagantly dressed man seemed to be the deciding vote in a group of such strong and powerful individuals, but he saw her looking carefully at every move he made as if it might help her to understand their dynamic more. 

“I would be more than happy to travel to Temeria. I do need some more material if I want to write another song about your heroism, my puppies. As much as you try, there is nothing like watching you hunt to get all the delicious details.” Jaskier grinned at his witchers, trying not to coo over the way they almost bounced in place in their eagerness. “We can set out in the morning if you wanted. I refuse to go traipsing all over the place in the dark and I wanted to practice my scales tonight as well.” 

“Oh, you sing?” Triss asked in surprise. He could see the calculating gleam in her eyes, the way she was storing any information on him carefully in her mind to unpack later. The fossegrim decided he would need to keep an eye on this new mage. He didn’t want his extra abilities becoming public knowledge, and even though Yennefer seemed friendly with the younger mage she wasn’t sharing too much information either. Triss would need to earn their trust, the bard decided, but that didn’t mean they had to be rude.

“You shouldn’t have asked him that question,” Lambert rumbled as he ruffled the bard’s hair affectionately. “Now we won’t have any peace and quiet tonight.” As soon as the realisation that he had openly displayed affection in front of a stranger seemed to hit him Lambert pulled his hand back, his eyes glaring at the sorceress threateningly as if daring her to say something about it. 

There was no way Jaskier was going to let that happen. He had spent far too much trying to bring his witchers out of their shells to have a mage ruining it now. He shoved at Lambert’s arm good naturedly, “Oh hush you. Just for that I’ll sing Eskel’s song. You may be familiar with a few of my songs, Miss Merigold. I do have the pleasure of a small amount of fame around the Continent.” 

“Please, call me Triss. You must sing for us then, I would love to hear what you have composed,” the mage replied in a friendly tone. She seemed to almost dismiss him with her eyes, seeing him as nothing more than an amusing travelling companion that the witchers and sorceress had decided to keep for the sake of entertainment. Jaskier was fine with her assuming that, it would make it much easier for him to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t hurt his puppies or kitten. 

Jaskier launched into his performance with his usual level of dramatics, making sure to brush against his two witchers reassuringly every now and then. The two men were clearly uncomfortable with the way the mage’s eyes kept watching them over the fire, seeming to catalogue each movement and compare it to what she knew of witchers. Yennefer was watching Triss as well, her mask of indifference much more convincing. At least he had an ally to help him take care of his puppies. 

This would be a good way to help them feel more comfortable with people besides him and his kitten. And if he had to keep singing their songs and reminding them that they were loved even if others saw them as oddities and monsters to keep at a distance, then that is exactly what he would do. The redheaded mage clearly thought that the witchers were the ones in the group to keep an eye on, but the real monster she should be concerned about was the one with the lute and need to protect gleaming in his eyes as he sang. 


	24. Your muttered whens and hows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group sets off to start their hunt.

Once they arrived in the small village in Temeria Eskel and Lambert seemed to come alive in a way Jaskier hadn't seen recently. The pair of them were immediately focused, asking people questions about the village that had them talking about things they had forgotten they remembered. Jaskier followed them around with a proud smile on his face, frequently looking at Yennefer to make sure she was seeing just how capable their witchers were. 

Triss was also watching the two witchers, but Jaskier was not impressed with the predatory gleam in her eyes. She was watching them as if she would love to take them apart and look at all the little secrets that made them tick. Jaskier was trying his hardest to not snarl at her whenever he saw that expression on her face and he found himself bouncing in between them multiple times throughout the day when he saw Triss move closer to either of them. 

"So what exactly have you been seeing down at the estuary?" Eskel asked a young woman. Lambert off talking to some men outside the tavern and Jaskier had left him to it. Eskel's gentle, matter of fact approach intrigued Jaskier, who hadn't had a chance to see this particular witcher work as much. 

"Oh well, there this awfully ugly thing, looks a bit like a naked woman but she throws mud at you. And there's a whole lot of these disgusting green things too. I saw them get hold of a horse once, ripped the poor thing to shred within minutes. We don't let the kids down there no more, can't risk them getting taken too. The only issue is that most of the water for the village comes from that estuary, so we've had groups of men go and try to kill the bastards. Most of them come home all scratched up if they make it back at all." 

Eskel nodded consideringly. "Thank you, I'll see what I can do to clear it out for you." 

The young woman shook her head at him. "Don't you go getting yourself killed. You seem like a nice enough sort, even with your freak eyes and messed up face. Would be a shame if we had to pick up bits of you on the beach for the next few weeks." 

Eskel didn't visibly react to the woman's comment, but Jaskier watched as he smiled tightly at her before turning away. He let his hair flop back into his face to hide his scars and Jaskier puffed himself up, preparing to give the woman a piece of his mind. "No, little lark. It's not worth your time," the witcher said as he pulled the bard away. 

"It is definitely worth my time, Eskel. She was uncommonly rude and should know better. Hey," here he raised his voice so that the woman turned to look at him in surprise, "how dare you insult the man who is about to solve your problems! You aren't worth the time it takes him to..." 

Eskel smacked a hand over Jaskier's mouth to stop him talking as he picked him up under one arm and carried him off. "I appreciate the thought, little lark, but you're never going to stop them all. They see a witcher, a disfigured witcher at that, and of course they will say something about it. She wasn't half as rude as most people are and .. did you just lick my hand, Jaksier?" 

The bard repeated the action until Eskel removed the hand over his mouth and wiped it down Jaskier's blue doublet in disgust. "Don't expect me not to tell people off when they are being rude to my witchers. I've told you before, it is now my life's mission to change the reputation of witchers across the Continent one song at a time, and that means telling backwards yokels like her to mind their manners when someone is fixing their local monster problem." Eskel smiled softly at that even as he refused to let the bard down.

“Well,” Triss said with a confused look on her face. “I don’t really see the need for such theatrics. The poor woman was just telling the truth, no crime in that.” 

“First off, nobody asked your opinion. We are already helping you when we don’t need to, so you can at least open your mouth. Secondly, I will smother you in your sleep if you say anything mean about either of my witchers again. How many times do I have to say it? I am going to improve their reputation and make sure the Continent appreciates them as the heroes they are, and I am perfectly willing to go through you to do that.” Unfortunately for the bard, he was not terribly intimidating dangling in the air under Eskel’s arm like a sack of potatoes. 

Triss looked at him askance. “Really, I am struggling to understand why they put up with your cheek. I understand that you are probably welcome entertainment out on the road, but you do need to realise, bard, that you are dealing with people with grand destinies to fulfill. If anyone should think before they speak, it’s you. Honestly, Yennefer, I’m surprised you allow him this much liberty.” The red headed mage had turned to complain to her friend, not seeing Lambert come up behind them and release Jaskier from Eskel’s hold. 

With a feral grin, Jaskier leapt at Triss, teeth snapping as he pulled at her hair. She screamed in shock, forgetting to respond with magic in her panic. Lambert and Eskel were no help, both laughing at the sight of a very human shaped fossegrim rolling on the floor and brawling with a mage. The bard was spewing out insults as he fought, still defending his witchers.

“Enough,” Yennefer sighed. She grabbed the bard by the scruff of the neck and hauled him off of the mage. “You two are ridiculous. Jaskier, I know you just want to look out for the boys but you need to learn to pick your battle better. The middle of a town square is not the place to have a fist fight. And Triss, you need to apologise. This isn’t Aretuza, there is no backstabbing and point scoring here. If you cannot be polite to everyone then it might be better if we parted ways for now. I am not here to deal with such childishness, from either of you.” 

“Yenna,” Jaskier whined, feeling like a kitten. “You know I had to. If I don’t defend my puppies’ honour then who will?” 

“You can stop with the sad little expression, I’m wise to your tricks. Apologise for trying to bite Triss.” 

“My sincerest apologies, Miss Merigold. Even if what you said was uncalled for, I should not have resorted to violence.” Jaskier said dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes and trying to look genuine. 

“No, I apologise as well. I should have been more ... considerate in my choice of words. I forget that not all witchers seem to be made of stone, not like that one I met earlier.” Triss said, flicking a mischievous look up at Yennefer as she talked of the other witcher. Jaskier had the sinking feeling that Triss was trying to make Yennefer jealous. Gods, he hoped that Yennefer could keep it together long enough for them to get this hunt done. If the redhead had been sleeping with Geralt knowing how Yennefer felt about him, sparks were going to fly. 

“Can we get back to the hunt,” Lambert interjected. “You two can continue your little cat fight now, Eskel and I have an idea of what we are dealing with.”

Jaskier perked up at that, scrambling out of Yennefer’s hold and bouncing in place in front of the other man. “Oh, is it something big and scary and terrifying for me to write a song about? I can come, right? You’ll let me come on the hunt with you?” 

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a look before Lambert nodded. “You can come, but you’re staying a decent distance away and you are going to do everything we say. Ladies, this is going to be quite dirty and disgusting, I suggest you both see about getting us a place to stay the night while the three of us sort this out. It shouldn’t take too long, but we will be in need of a hot bath and a warm bed after.” Lambert stared at Yennefer as he spoke, as if there was something more than what he was saying he needed her to know. The raven haired mage nodded before linking arms with Triss and leading her off. He could hear Triss protesting, wanting to come and watch the fight, but Yennefer was insistent. 

“Can I watch you kill things now?” Jaskier asked, trying his puppy eyes on the witchers again. The pair of them laughed at him before leading him down the road out of town. 

“Sure thing, little lark. But first, we want to see what you can do. This will be a perfect opportunity for Lambert and I to get a good idea of just what you can do.” Eskel grinned at him, his scar crinkling adorably. 

Jaskier couldn’t help patting at Eskel’s face in his excitement. “This is going to be so much fun,” he cried, dancing around the two of them as they walked. “I’m going to have to write about the heroic bard who defeated some ... what are we after again? Doesn’t matter, I shall defeat them with the power of my voice and write a song they will sing for decades to come!”

“Slow down, you bloodthirsty little fiend. It’s just going to be a water hag and a few drowners, nothing special or terribly dangerous. And Eskel and I will be right there in case you get your ass in trouble,” Lambert laughed.

Jaskier poked his tongue out at him in reply. “Drowners scmowners. I am going to be the most amazing fighting extravaganza you two have ever seen. You will be begging me for fighting lessons after this, just you watch.” Jaskier launched himself and Lambert’s back, forcing the other man to grab at his legs as the bard’s arms went around his neck. “Onward, noble steed. My glorious victory awaits.” 


	25. The scratching grows so loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier gets to do some monster hunting.

"Well this looks like a big pile of nothing. Where the monsters with the fangs and the claws and all that? I was promised beasties!" Jaskier whined. He surveyed the estuary in front of him in disappointment; how was he meant to write a dramatic ballad about his glorious defeat of the dastardly demons if there were no demons? Actually, he should keep that in mind, dastardly demons sounded quite good. 

"Quit your bitching, Jaskier. They'll be here, we just need to go over some basics before you go and get all toothy." Lambert turned Jaskier to face him, ignoring the way the bard kept looking expectantly over his shoulder at the water. Why did the witchers jump head first into every situation and then turn into overbearing mother hens as soon as he was involved in a little bit of danger. 

"Alright, rule number one. If you think it's getting to be too much, you call for us. Say either of our names and we will help. There's no shame in working together." Lambert stared intently into his eyes, trying to impress upon the bard the seriousness of the situation. 

Jaskier nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place now. It wasn't fair for them to tease him like this, he just wanted to take his earring out and see what he could do. He could feel the magic pooling under his skin and in his mouth. If he could just let it all out on these monsters, do the pest control for this village and let all his energy out all at once, then he would be happy. But instead he had to listen to these two worry. 

Lambert sighed before continuing. "Rule number two, if we tell you to do something, you do it straight away. No arguments, no deciding you know best. If you can't follow instructions, you can't hunt. Understood?" 

"Yes, yes, I promise to follow all instructions, oh great witcher gods. Now can I please go and beat something up? I want to see if the explody song works on monsters too." Jaskier turned pleading eyes on both of the witchers, grinning at the exasperated looks they exchanged. 

"Asshole. Fine, go nuts. They should come out of the water once you get close to it. From the sounds of it there's a water hag and a couple of drowners. Keep clear of the claws, don't let any get behind you, watch the hag throwing mud, and watch out for them going under the water and popping up right in front of you. Go nuts, Eskel and I won't interfere unless it looks like you need it." Lambert gave the bard a light shove towards the water, ignoring the concerned look on Eskel's face. 

Jaskier gave a whoop of excitement, pulling the earring from his ear and dashing towards the water. He ignored the way Eskel called out for him to slow down, instead running towards the water with a laugh. He let out the trill building up in his throat as he ran, relishing in the feeling of letting his inner magic all out. 

Out of the water appeared the hulking figure of the water hag, brown sludge sliding down her naked skin. The drowners slid out of the water as well, green skin gleaming in the sun. Instead of lunging at him as he expected, they stood in the shallows mesmerised at the sounds he was producing. Jaskier shuddered at the sight of them. He hadn’t had much opportunity to see the monsters close up before they were dead, they weren’t really living up to his expectations. How dare these monsters not be song-ready. He let his frustration out in his voice and watched the way the monsters writhed in pain at the high pitched noise. 

“Look what I can do,” Jaskier called back over his shoulder. He beamed at the witchers. 

“Focus on what you’re doing before you get yourself killed,” Eskel yelled back, keeping his eyes fixed behind the fossegrim. With a sigh Jaskier turned back to the monsters. 

Without his song keeping them trapped, the drowners were advancing on him and the water hag was stopping to gather some mud. They were chittering to each other, a sound that grated on Jaskier’s ears. He could feel the menace and violence in the sound, especially when the water hag joined in with an unsettling screech. Jaskier responded with a shriek of his own, sending them to their knees. He grinned at the sense of control he had before starting the unearthly song he used to pull the water from things. He had been practicing during his time with Yennefer and was now able to focus his song, a bonus when he had spectators that he didn’t want to accidentally kill. 

As he sang, he watched the water stream off of a couple of the drowners into a ribbon in the air. The water twisted in the air gracefully, leaving the drowners it was pulled from clawing at the air as their skin sucked in close to their skin and dried out. Jaskier increased the speed of his song, watching smugly as the bodies dropped lifelessly into the water. 

He turned his attention on the other drowners, wanting to save the water hag for his big finale. He let out the shriek he had used on the soldiers at Cintra so many weeks ago, watching with satisfaction as blood slid out of their noses and ears to mingle with the slime all over their skin. The drowners didn’t seem to register the loss of blood, continuing to lurch towards the fossegrim with surprising speed. A feral gleam lit the bard’s eyes as he lunged forward, ripping at their throats with his teeth. The blood was foul in his mouth, tasting of rot and death, but he kept ripping at their skin. 

With the blood soaking his face, Jaskier lost sight of the water hag. He didn’t see her slip under the water through the red haze over his eyes, didn't hear the witcher’s cries of alarm through the thumping of his heart in his ears. The next thing he felt was claws sinking into the skin of his back, ripping from his shoulder to his hip in one long diagonal slash. 

Eskel appeared before him suddenly, shoving away the inert corpse of the drowner he had just killed before clutching Jaskier in his arms. The bard could hear Lambert’s swears mixing with the screams of the water hag and the sound of a sword slicing through flesh. The burning pain in his back was consuming all of his attention, leaving him as weak as a newborn babe. 

“Come on, bard, stay with me. You were doing so well, don’t let it all go to waste by passing out on me now.” Eskel was patting gently at his face, smearing the blood further into his skin. 

“This isn’t how the song should go,” Jaskier whined, his breath leaving his body in little pants. “Yenna is going to be so cross with me, and I ruined my doublet.” 

Lambert moved into view, wiping the blood from his blade with a rag. “Can’t be too bad then, if you’re still sensible enough to be afraid of the witch. She’s going to tan your hide for sure once she fixes your back. Hell, she’s going to beat the pair of us black and blue once she sees what we let happen to you.” 

Jaskier grimaced up at his witchers. “We all know you two are in far more trouble than I am. You let me get hurt, she’s going to be pissed.”

The witchers groaned before Eskel turned him and lifted him into his arms so that his back was exposed to the open air. Jaskier moaned at the movement, struggling for a minute before subsiding weakly in his witcher’s arms. 

“Sadly for you, we only have potions that would work on witchers. You will have to make do with a quick shot of vodka and a short walk back to town. I’m sure Yennefer and that other one, Merigold, will be able to sort you out in no time.” Eskel said. Lambert held a bottle to the bard’s mouth, smiling approvingly when he gulped it down eagerly before coughing at the burn. 

“Let’s go, assholes. We better get the brave hero back, he needs his darling sorceress to fuss over him. Don’t worry, little lark, we will make sure to let her know how heroic you were.”

Jaskier groaned. “There’s no way you two can tell her how I fought. You’re going to butcher it and make it into some crappy, boring piece of crap. I’ll tell her when I’m better and neither of you will say a single thing.” 

“Of course. We would hate to ruin your moment of glory. Alright, valiant slayer of monsters. We will let you tell your story as soon as the mages sort your back out. You just hold tight for a bit and we’ll get you sorted. Sing us a song so we can make sure you don’t pass out,” Eskel suggested. 

  
Jaskier sighed before belting out a few lines of a song. “ _ But the story is this, she’ll destroy with her  _ for the love of all the gods, that hurts. Fuck, fuck, um,  _ but the story is this, she’ll destroy with her sweet kiss, her sweet kiss _ .” It was going to be a bloody long walk back to the village. 


	26. Though some would harm you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is looked after.

"You fucking idiots! How could you let this happen?" Yennefer's shouts at seeing the returning hunters almost deafened the bard. Admittedly, he was rather a sight at the moment. There was drowner blood splattered all over him, especially on his face, his lovely blue doublet was stained and torn all down the back, and he was sure the skin beneath it currently looked about as bad as it felt. 

"Yenna, I killed them all. Are you proud of me?" Jaskier said, looking up at her hopefully. 

The sorceress sighed, her angry scowl fading to a resigned smile as she smoothed his hair back from his face. "I'm very proud of you,you bloodthirsty little thing, now hush and keep your mouth shut. Triss is up in the room I payed for and as far as she is going to know, these dolts killed any monsters and you just got caught up in the crossfire. We don't want your fishy little secret getting out, now do we?" At that she turned back to the two witchers with a glare. "You can get him upstairs so I can treat him, but don't think we won't be having words later once we leave Triss. I left you in charge of this idiot, I at least expected Eskel to be sensible and look out for him." 

Yennefer ignored the spluttered protests of guilt and gracefully led the way into the inn, muttering under her breath about salves and potions as she went. "I suppose I should at least be glad you didn't bring him into the village all toothy, at least one of you has enough in their head to know better than that." 

Eskel beamed proudly until Lambert pulled a face and muttered "kiss up" under his breath. Jaskier turned in Eskel’s arm to tell him off and let out a strangled little whimper as the raw skin of his back made contact with Eskel’s arm. 

“For fuck’s sake, can you lot not just do what I say for one minute. Stop being idiots and hurry up. I don’t need him making his back any worse than it is and I don’t have the energy to deal with your bullshit.” Yennefer snapped, ushering them into the inn and pointing the way up the stairs to their room. “You’re in luck, Jaskier, Triss is a talented healer. She should have you right as rain in no time.” 

Jaskier made a huffy noise at that and had Eskel look down at him disapprovingly. “Come on, Jaskier, she hasn’t done anything wrong. She might be a bit ... blunt, but she doesn't seem to be malicious or anything.” 

“Whatever, you fucking sop. If you want to get all up close and personal with the mage, just let us know. If she’s a piece of work to Jaskier again, I’ll fucking hit her, mage or no mage.” Lambert said with a scowl. 

“The lot of you can shut up and keep moving. Honestly, it’s like a pair of wild dogs pissing in circles. Triss is fine, she’s one of the nicer ones from the bloody brotherhood and that’s saying something. You’re just spoilt having me around all the time.” Yennefer grinned as she opened the door. 

Triss took one look at the blood coating Jaskier and was suddenly all business. “Put him on the bed, we can always spell it clean later. This doublet is ruined, we will have to rip it off. Come on people, move.” 

Jaskier snarled under his breath at the idea of ripping his doublet further but subsided under a dark look from Yennefer as Lambert tore the beautiful blue fabric straight down the seams and off his back. At least lying on his front like this the others couldn’t see the faces he was pulling as the fabric pulled at his skin. 

Triss muttered under her breath, clanking bottles above Jaskier’s back. “Alright, this isn’t going to be pleasant but we need to get the bits of your doublet out of the wounds and there’s almost certainly all sorts of things in this that shouldn’t be. I doubt most monsters are particularly careful about hygiene and you don’t want this getting infected. Thankfully, they seem to be fairly even cuts, so I should be able to heal this up quite nicely. If you’re lucky and I can find the right herbs in my bag, there won’t even be a scar.” As Triss talked she picked several strands of the fabric that had caught in the awful mess that was his back, Lambert and Eskel’s sudden pressure on his shoulders and legs the only thing keeping Jaskier from leaping off of the bed. 

“Can’t you do something for him for the pain? He shouldn’t have to feel you poking around in his back like this.” Yennefer said. She was standing far back from the bed, trying to stay out of the way and let her friend work in peace. 

“Sure thing, have a look in that bag on the table. There should be some milk of the poppy in there, give him a few drops of that. It’s magically enhanced, so he should sleep through the rest of this,” Triss replied distractedly, busy plucking the final few strands from the raw meat of his skin. 

Yennefer smiled reassuringly at Jaskier as she approached him with the small glass bottle. He opened his mouth eagerly and let her drop some of the liquid onto his tongue. He winced at a particularly painful tug in his back and tried to focus on Yennefer’s face to block out the pain. Within a few minutes the hair around Yennefer’s hair seemed to swirl in some imaginary breeze, growing to engulf all of his vision. He happily escaped into the darkness to escape the pain, the scent of lilac and gooseberries following him into the abyss. 

* * *

Jaskier woke up upset to not be in the middle of a pile of warm bodies. Why were his puppies and his kitten not cuddling him to death after his heroic fight? He opened his eyes and almost lost whatever food was left in his stomach at the awful swirling sensation. What the hell had they given him? 

“Oh look, the patient’s awake now. How are you feeling?” Triss’ bright red hard swam into view, almost blinding the bard. 

“Like crap, what the hell was in that bloody potion?” Jaskier croaked out in reply. 

“You should be fine in a few moments, you just need to let your eyes adjust and get some food in you to settle your stomach. I had to use a fair amount of magic on you as well as the potions. You have quite protective friends, they wanted the best of care for you.” The mage looked at him with that sharp, assessing gleam in her eyes. “I find myself quite intrigued. I do love a good puzzle and I can’t seem to figure out just how you work in their little group. I have no idea why they let you anywhere near the monsters they hunt, mistakes like this must be a common occurrence but I can’t see too many scars on your body.” 

“I’m just lucky,” Jaskier replied, smiling dopily at her as if the potions were still affecting him. “I’m the entertainment for the group and I’ve gotten good at ducking for cover when I need to. Where are they anyway? I would have thought they would be here.” 

Triss stared at him for a moment before replying. “I only just convinced them to go down and get some food. It’s been a rather entertaining day for me, I’ve never seen Yennefer hover in that way before. And your strapping witcher boys have been most devoted as well. The three of them didn’t want to leave your side.” 

Jaskier preened at the idea of his friends looking after him. “Can I go down and see them then? My back feels fine.” He twisted his back carefully to test out just how good it felt and grinned when there was no pain. Triss watched him stretch before nodding.

“Fine, we can go down and you can eat with them, but as soon you feel any kind of pain then we come back up.” Jaskier pumped his fist in the air in triumph and got up from the bed a bit too quickly and almost keeled over. 

“Calm down, you just had your back ripped open less than a day ago. Now is not the time for the kind of theatrics I’ve heard about. Here, put on this shirt and then we can head down.” She handed him a loose cotton shirt and helped him into it before leading him downstairs. As soon as Jaskier caught sight of his witchers and sorceress sitting at a corner table looking sulky he let out a happy cry and bounced over to them, ignoring Triss’ cries of protest. 

“Please tell me you didn’t ruin my story!” Jaskier begged as he sat himself down on Eskel’s knee and grabbed at Lambert’s arm. Yennefer raised an eyebrow in amusement at him and pulled out a chair for Triss.

“Of course we didn’t, little lark. We just told them what had carved up your back so that Triss here could heal you up. Had to make sure there were no poisons or other nasties in your back.” Eskel patted his leg reassuringly before shoving food into Jaskier’s hand. The bard grinned and started munching on the bread and cheese, relaxing back against the witcher. 

“Good. Just you wait, Yennefer. I have a story that will knock your socks off.” 

“You mean the story of how two witchers did the job they’ve been training to do for decades and you somehow interfered and got sliced up in the process? I fail to see how this would make a good story,” Triss said. 

Jaskier puffed up in indignation before deflating at a sharp look from Yennefer. “You clearly have the same level for drama that this lot here have. It was an amazing, heroic battle between the forces of good and evil with the fate of this small village caught up in the balance. You lot are just uncivilised yokels who don’t appreciate the art it takes to spin a good story.”

Lambert passed more food to the bard in consolidation. “I know, we are awful savages that you have tried so hard to educate. Can we enjoy dinner tonight and you can regale us with our heroics later?” Jaskier sniffed and nodded, already trying to construct a dramatic tale that would convince Triss while also being worthy of his own personal standards. Hopefully they would part ways with the redheaded mage soon, he didn’t dislike her but he was ready to be with the people that he cared about with no one else to worry about. 


	27. I wake and hear you calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is having a hard time.

Jaskier only felt a little bit mean for being so happy to see the back of Triss Merigold. The mage had clearly wanted to draw Yennefer into some complicated political mess but had very quickly realised that Yennefer was more interested travelling with the witchers and the bard than accompanying her back to court. Triss had waited until Jaskier was back to normal health (only commenting once on how quickly he seemed to heal) before giving some excuse about needing to get back to Foltest's court. No one had questioned her and Triss left without too much fuss. 

The following months would have been bliss if it hadn't been for the haunting melody that Jaskier kept hearing on the breeze. At first he had ignored it, thinking it was just some aspect of being a fossegrim that he had not yet encountered. But the sound kept worming its way into his head, jerking him from sleep in the middle of the night and distracting him in the middle of conversations. That had got him in trouble with Yennefer a few times, the mage unimpressed with his lack of attention when she was trying to test out his capabilities.

"Honestly Jaskier, if you don't focus you're going to get yourself hurt again. There's only so much help I can provide from a distance and if you insist on helping the boys fight then you need to focus," Yennefer berated. Their latest monster hunt had involved Yenneger throwing a quick blast of energy at a nekker that had almost gotten hold of the fossegrim's leg when he had frozen clutching his head in the middle of a fight. Neither the mage nor the witchers had been impressed, all three chewing him out for a minor lapse in attention for the past few hours. 

"It was that bloody noise again, Yenna, you can't blame me. It's driving me mad, I swear." The bard scowled at the air as the haunting tune rang out again. "It won't leave me the fuck alone. I wish it would just leave me in peace for a few blessed hours." 

"None of us can hear any noise, little lark. You're going to need to tell us more so that we can help you." Ever the peacekeeper, Eskel was the first to stop admonishing the bard and start thinking of ways to help him. Jaskier wanted to hug him for this alone but he could feel himself getting worked up with the frustration of never having a moment's peace. 

"I can't explain it, it feels like it's for me and I shouldn't even be telling you this much. It's just so ... it's familiar but I would swear that I've never heard it before. I just need to find out what the hell is making that noise and then maybe it would stop!" Jaskier was almost yelling by the end of this, hating the irrational anger he felt but unable to stop it from leaking out into his voice. 

Yennefer looked at him sharply at that. "It sounds like a compulsion. Who could you have pissed off that could potentially be trying to lure you to something?" 

"Stupid question, Yennefer, who hasn't the little bard pissed off? Did you fuck the wrong person again, Jaskier?" Lambert joked. 

Jaskier poked out his tongue at the witcher. "Very funny mister. Who was the one climbing out the window of some poor woman's house in the last village we were in. It bloody wasn't me, I at least know how to make a smooth escape instead of being screamed at in the town square. This doesn't feel malicious, Yenna, it feels ... it feels like it's part of me but not. Does that make sense? Like some part of my magic sees itself in the song." He looked hopefully at the raven haired woman, desperately wanting someone to solve his problems and tell him it would all be ok. "I can't even compose with this bloody noise. You have to make it stop. What am I if I can't make my own music?" 

Yennefer pulled him into a quick hug, melting at his forlorn expression. "Let me see if I can sense anything before you do something rash. If it seems to be benign, we can try and find the source of it. Hopefully if we find it, we can figure out how to make it stop.”

Jaskier grinned weakly at her before glaring off into the distance again as the noise seemed to get louder. Why the fuck would it not just go away for five minutes. The stupid melody was so embedded in his mind by now he wasn’t even sure when he was actually hearing it and when it was just replaying again and again in his mind. 

“This is not a good idea. In what fucking world do you trust random voices in the wind?” Lambert interjected. 

Jaskier frowned at him. “At this point I just want something to make the thing stop. I am tired, I am frustrated, and I just want to be able to sing without the gods damned song getting in the way and twisting up all my words. If I have to go fight some big bad beastie to make it go away, then bring it on. Don’t try and tell me I can’t try to solve my own problems.” 

“Lambert isn’t trying to say you can’t fix it, he just wants you to be careful. We both want you to be careful.” Eskel stepped between the two with his hands outstretched. He looked beseechingly from one to the other, hating the tension in their group. 

Lambert shoved him out of the way. “No, I’m saying that he needs to not be a fucking idiot and run towards the disembodied voices and get himself and probably us killed. How the fuck do you expect us to look after you if you do shit like this?” 

Jaskier snarled at that, getting right up in Lambert’s face. “I never fucking asked you to protect me! I can look after myself. It’s you bloody idiots who need looking after, how the hell did you survive this long without me? No wait, that’s just the point, isn’t it. You were just surviving, none of you bloody witchers know how to actually live and enjoy life. It’s just killing monster after monster and then taking all the shit that others throw at you. No one should fucking live like that and you two need me to show you how to enjoy your life. If you two left, I would cope. I’m used to everyone leaving me and honestly I’m surprised this has lasted this long. But you two would end up back in that awful monochromatic world you lived in where all you did was hunt and what would be worse is that you would know exactly what you were missing this time!” Jaskier was screaming by the end of it, the veins on his neck standing out in relief as he bellowed his frustrations straight into Lambert’s stunned face. 

He took a deep breath as he finished before the words he had just said caught up with him. “Shit, Lambert, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, I just, I really need a nap or something and I don’t know where that all came from and I.”

“No,” Lambert said in a haggard voice. “You’re completely right. The life we were living before we met you was no life at all. You’ve helped both of us see just what we were missing and I don’t know how we would cope if we lost you. That’s exactly why you can’t just go running off after this voice. We can’t lose you. If you get in trouble, you know that Eskel and I will have your back, but it doesn’t make sense to just run blindly into danger.” 

“This is touching boys, really touching,” Yennefer drawled from behind them. They turned to see her standing with a hand on Eskel’s arm in comfort as the bigger man looked wildly uncomfortable with the fighting. “But I am insulted that you would think I would let him do anything without the proper precautions. While he has helped you two to discover the joys of life, I also find his company ... entertaining and would not let anything happen to him.”

“Lambert, darling, you won’t lose me. Do you honestly think I am going to let you three off that lightly? You’re stuck with me for however long a fossegrim lasts and there’s nothing that would make me leave you as long as you want me around. Yenna, honey, how do we test to see if this song is alright to follow? I assume that we will all be going together, so hopefully it’s not too out of the way of your plans for the rest of the season.” 

“Alright, you three can set up camp for the night here. If I want to do a thorough job of this it may take several hours and I will need you to sit still for them all, so go set up camp and then do your silly play fights to get all your energy out before we begin.” 

Jaskier snapped a sassy little salute to Yennefer before jumping at Lambert’s back and scrambling up until he was perched on his shoulders. “Let’s go, we have a fire to build and food to find!” Eskel chucked at his theatrics and the way Lambert clutched at the bard’s legs to keep him stable before leading them off. With any luck they would be able to find the source of the song soon and restore the bard to his usual high spirits. His current mood swings would be the death of them otherwise. 


	28. Run, love run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier finds something on his search for the source of the song.

Jaskier was so glad that Yennefer had decided there was no reason not to try and find the source of the noise. He had sat (im)patiently through all of her tests and the general fussing of Eskel and Lambert before they had reluctantly agreed that there was no obvious danger. Jaskier had not said I told you so (more than ten times) because he was a mature and responsible adult. 

“Can we go already? I really want to find this thing.” Jaskier bounced around as the others slowly organised their stuff to travel. They were moving too slowly, they didn’t seem to feel the same urgency burning under Jaksier’s skin. 

Yennefer fixed him with a glare and slowly mounted the horse she had brought for the season. The white mare contrasted nicely with her typical black dress and the sorceress was inordinately proud of it, even if Lambert kept telling her the mare was useless over distances and might as well be used as monster bait. 

“Calm down, little lark. We can move off now and you can mellow out a little.” Eskel pulled the bard up onto his stallion in front of him. “Which way do we need to go? You’re the navigator here.” 

Jaskier closed his eyes and focused on the song for a moment. It trilled louder in his ears as he focused it, as if it was pleased to not be ignored anymore. He groaned at the increase in noise before trying to pinpoint its direction. “Um, I think we need to go that way,” he said, pointing to the left. “I’ll try and keep track of where it’s coming from and let you know if we need to change direction.” 

Eskel nudged the horse forward, following the direction Jaskier was pointing. The others trailed behind him, Lambert and Yennefer still bickering over the potential risk to the bard.

Jaskier ignored them both, melting back against the strong chest behind him and giving himself up to the song. He opened his eyes and poked at Eskel's leg when he felt the chest behind him rumble with laughter.

"You were singing, little lark. I haven't heard you sound that happy in weeks. It was nice."

Jaskier grinned to himself. "I finally feel like I'm doing something about this song. I don't know how to explain it, and that's something coming from me. It's like when you remember a song from your childhood and it makes you feel so soft and loved. Well, I guess it's like that. I haven't really had that lovely childhood experience myself, so I'm basing this off of what I've heard, but hey, that's the job." 

Eskel hummed thoughtfully. "I remember. My mother, she used to sing this song. It was something about a hen, something she used to sing when we were walking. It's the only thing I really remember about her." 

Jaskier felt himself tearing up at the wistful tone in Eskel's voice. "Oh, love. Do you remember anything else about the song? I can try and track it down in the villages and such if you remember a bit more about it."

"I do, but now's not the time. Let's focus on you and your song first, I want to hear you singing again like that. You were so happy." 

Jaskier smiled and relaxed back against his witcher, letting the song spill out of his mouth again and float on the breeze behind him. 

* * *

The song was getting louder and louder. They had travelled along the Yaruga for several days now, Jaskier finding it much clearer to hear the closer he was to the water source. Yennefer, Eskel and Lambert were not as impressed as he was, they did not seem to enjoy having to wade through the shallows leading their horses when the paths on either side of the river disappeared into cliff faces. 

For the bard, the easy alternative was to just dive into the river and laugh at them as he swam easily through the water. Yennefer had almost murdered him when he had decided to express his excitement at getting close to the source of the sound by splashing them from the water and sending long ropes of water to slowly drip down the back of their tops. He had been forced to dive deep into the river to get away from the fire balls that had been thrown at him and the screeching voice telling him to act his age for once and get a grip. He had cackled to himself in the comfort of the water, loving the freedom and joy of the water. 

But now the song was getting louder and louder, ringing in his ears and filling his senses. It was almost blocking out everything else out, so that all he could hear and see was the song in his head and the water around him. He didn’t hear Yennefer calling to him to slow down from the banks, didn’t hear Lambert swearing and Eskel raising his voice in concern. 

He launched himself out of the water as another side joined in the song. It sounded like a young woman, it sounded like a familiar young woman. Jaskier took off at a run, clambering up the banks of the river quickly and darting into the trees. He ignored the shouts from his friends in his haste to find the sound, hurtling through the trees towards it. 

He broke through the tree cover to see a small cottage with a young woman standing outside, singing to herself as she cut firewood. He paused in shock, staring at her in disbelief. 

She turned at the sound of someone breaking the tree cover, shading her eyes to look at the intruder. “Jules?” 

The bard couldn’t move, his feet seemed to be nailed to the floor. His heart was beating in his chest like a trapped bird, blocking his throat so that he could not reply. 

“Jules? Is it really you?” The woman dropped the axe she was holding and hurried over to him, reaching out to touch his face reverently. “It really is. Oh, gods be good.” She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. 

Jaskier’s arms moved to hold her close without thought. “I ... they told me you were dead, Maddy. They said you had drowned.” His voice was small in the silence, barely heard over the sobs she was letting out. He could feel tears streaming down his face silently, dripping onto her chestnut locks. 

“No, I’m here, I’m alright, I’m better than alright now you’re here. How are you here? I never thought I would see you again.” She pulled away from him to stare up into his eyes, looking at him as if she were afraid he would disappear if she blinked. 

“There was a song, it led me here. I could hear you singing from the river and ran up to see if it was really you. My friends,” Jaskier turned to look back towards the river for a moment, wincing at the thought of how mad they would all be when they found him, “should be here soon. You have to meet them, I told them so much about you and how you were the only bright thing in Lettenhove. But what happened? We heard about how you were caught up in a fight as a child but now you seem to be completely different. If I hadn’t recognised your face and your voice then I would never have known you were my Maddy.”

Maddy smiled up at him. “You were always my favourite part of Lettenhove too, little brother. I can tell you all about what happened since you left, but it’s a long story. We should probably go and gather your friends, then you can come back to my home and we can have tea and tell both of our stories. I want to hear all about what you have been doing since you left Lettenhove.”

Jaskier nodded and grabbed onto her hand to lead her into the forest to find his friends. He wasn’t willing to let her go now that he had found her, and she seemed equally disinclined to let him out of her sight.

  
They had only walked a few minutes into the trees when Jaskier heard angry voices yelling out his name. 

“Your friends don’t sound particularly friendly,” Madeline said cheekily, grinning up at him with the same smile she had worn every time he sang to her as a child. 

“Did you hear that, there’s someone else there. Fucking move Eskel, she might have him.” Jaskier heard Lambert yelling at the others, clearly having heard Maddy with his enhanced senses. 

He grinned happily. “Brace yourself, my dearest sister. I am about to be attacked by enthusiastic puppies. You might want to take a step back.” Madeline looked confused at how excited he seemed to be by the prospect and relinquished his hand before backing away a few steps towards her cottage. Within minutes even she could hear the horses being led through the trees and the angry muttering of Yennefer. 

Eskel was the first to break through the trees and look at him assessingly before grabbing the bard into a rough hug. Lambert followed soon after while Yennefer contented herself with a quick smack to the shoulder before turning to look at Madeline. 

“And who might you be?” Yennefer asked brusquely. She was almost vibrating with her need to check personally that Jaskier was unharmed but knew that there was no way she was getting through the wall of witchers to touch him for a few minutes. 

“My name is Madeline, my lady. I am Julian’s older sister. I assume you are the friends he was talking of? Any friends of Julian’s are friends of mine, please, come back to my cottage and we can talk further.” 

Yennefer’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before she recovered her normal poise. “We would be sincerely grateful for any courtesy you might extend, Madeline. I am Yennefer of Vengerberg, and these two are Eskel and Lambert.” She turned to look at Jaskier in amusement. “It is nice to see that apparently someone in the family has manners.”

Jaskier wormed his way out from between his witchers, patting them each on the shoulder as they pouted (as much as witchers ever pouted), and launched himself at Yennefer. She had finally figured out how to respond to his sudden cuddle attacks and grabbed hold of his flailing limbs easily to pull him into a hug. “If you ever scare me like that again, you silly bard, I will cut your hair again. There will be no more putting it up into a bun, it will be incredibly short and I won’t help you to regrow it.” 

Jaskier smiled and pecked a kiss onto her check. “Sorry, Yenna. I didn’t mean to worr you. But my sister is alive!” 

A soft smile twisted her lips as she put him back down. “I know, little lark, and I’m so happy for you. Now why don’t we follow your lovely sister back to her home and you two can get properly acquainted, hmm?” 

Jaskier nodded and bounced back over to grab Madeline’s hand. “Let’s go Maddy, we have so much to talk about. It’s been years since we have seen each other and so much has happened. I have to tell you all about how I met my friends and how I got to be a bard like I always told you I would and how I get to see witchers, yes these two are witchers, fight monsters, and Yennefer does magic and it’s amazing to see and.”

Madeline laughed and started leading them back to her house. “I’m so glad to see that you haven’t changed over the years. You’re still the same Julian who used to tell me stories when I was stuck in Lettenhove.” 

“At least someone here likes your babbling bard, maybe we can enjoy some peace and quiet while you talk her ear off,” Lambert teased goodnaturedly. 

Jaskier grinned over his shoulder at the witcher. “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said and pulled Madeline into a skip back towards her house, laughter echoing through the trees as the two of them played like they hadn’t been able to as children. 


	29. We’ve left all the blinking lights and shouting behind us now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madeline tells her story.

Madeline bustled around the small cottage preparing tea for her guests. Jaskier had sat himself down on the floor in front of the fireplace, staring in wonder at his sister while the others sat at the table and watched him silently. The woman blushed under the attention, constantly glancing up at Jaskier as if to see if he had melted away into the air.

The witchers and the mage accepted their mugs with small nods, while Jaskier took his and looked expectantly at his sister. "Tell me everything, Maddy, I have to know." 

"It's a long story and most of it isn't terribly pleasant, but alright. From what you've said, it seems you heard about the way mother and father attacked Tikhomir and left me cursed. He had just been trying to make them stop, but they wouldn't leave him alone. I got in the way and it was just, it was like my entire world was filled with the most beautiful song. I couldn't see or feel much else other than that song and the only time I felt like part of the world again was when you sang to me, Julian." Madeline turned a tearstained smile to her brother, wiping the tears from his cheeks as well.

"Then I remember hearing the voice get clearer again, it must have been years later because I don't remember having heard you sing for a while so you must have been gone. I followed it one day, it's not like they bothered to keep an eye on ke or anything, and found Tikhomir back in the river. He had gone further down the river for a few years, avoiding our parents and then eventually getting caught up in the music like he always did. Once he felt he could return to the area safely, he came back and called to me. He felt as if he must try to lift the curse and we spent many evenings together by that river as he tried to lift it. I found it to be both horrifically painful and the highlight of my day, at least for a few hours I could feel something other than the song.” A beatific grin broke over Madeline’s face at that. Jaskier could see in her eyes the pleasure and the pain of those moments, of finally being able to experience the world as all others did. 

“And then, one day, he was able to lift it. I could barely tolerate it, all those sights and smells and oh gods, the sounds. I spent days in an even worse state than I had already been in, almost comatose with all the shocks of the world. Mother and Father thought that my condition was worsening and decided that the best option would be to marry me off. They thought that there must be some fool out there who would prefer to marry for status rather than a wife that he could talk to, let alone care for. Once I had adjusted somewhat to my new senses, I found that I had much better play the raving lunatic. Mother and Father brought man after man to the house to see if they could arrange a marriage, and the only way I could stave off increasingly disgusting and disagreeably men was to frighten them away with my dramatics.” 

Madeline looked away from them, a shadow stealing across her face. “Eventually, they found a man that could not be dissuaded, no matter how much I tried to scare him away. He was a brute, he made it clear that he had no interest in me as a person and was more than willing to use violence to keep me under control. The next opportunity I had, I ran to the river and asked for Tikhomir to take me away from that hell hole. Thankfully, he was most obliging, he still felt rather guilty over the curse, and we organised for me to fake my death. He was able to create a state that mimics death with his music, something altogether fantastic enough to be worthy of one of the songs you used to sing to me, Julian.” 

“It was rather an entertaining charade. I stole away to the river, making sure that several people saw me go, and proceeded to swim in the river. Tikhomir sang me into my deathlike state and waited nearby until someone found me to ensure my safety. Once they found me, I was promptly laid to rest in the family tomb. Tikhomir came and woke me in the middle of the night and we decided to push the farce a step further, scratching around the tomb and smearing some blood he had procured from the butchers on some scraps from my dress to make it look as if a monster had devoured my body. Then we stole away, fleeing Lettenhove until we arrived here. This small cottage was not in the best of shape but I was able to sort it out rather quickly, and Tikhomir has the Yaruga to entertain him. It has been a perfect utopia, except for the fact that I had no idea what happened to my darling baby brother.” Jaskier grinned up at her at that, ignoring the laughter it raised from his friends. He was sure he would be teased mercilessly later, but he was sure he could give as good as he received. 

“There have been a few travellers passing along the Yaruga who have stayed with me, mostly refugees from Cintra trying to find their own place in the world recently, and they have sung beautiful ballads to me, written by one Jaskier the bard. I knew it had to be you, no one else writes like you. I have been listening eagerly to any songs they could recall, knowing that each one must sound so much better from your mouth. I was so glad you were free of that place, hearing that you had made your own life and followed your dream despite the way we were both brought up made me so happy.” 

“Maddy, you haven’t even heard me sing in over a decade, you cannot say that you know how good I am,” Jaskier laughed. “For all you know, I now sound like an owl being beat about the head with a lute and have been living a boring life following this lot around.”

“Oh no, there is no way you have been living a boring life. I know my Jules, there is no way you would have let life pass you by without seizing every moment and your friends here are proof of that. I’ve heard your song about the witchers and unless I am very much mistaken there are two of them sitting at my kitchen table right now. And this must be the lovely Ebony Enchantress here, I must confess Lady Yennefer, my brother did you justice in his songs.  _ Eyes like the heart of a fire, a woman who conquers all she sees _ .” 

Yennefer smiled smugly at Madeline’s words. “You see, boys, I am instantly recognisable by my songs. You two only wish you were as striking as I am.” Lambert kicked at her under the table and Eskel turned his wounded eyes to Jaskier. 

“Yes, well, I may be one of the most celebrated poets to graduate from Oxenfurt, but I refuse to brag.” Lambert and Eskel both laughed outright at that, earning themselves a glare from the bard. “I am fortunate enough to be blessed with a creative mind and the talent to express it, something that I have used to make my way in this world. My real fortune has been in my friends, they are such fantastic sources of fantastical tales. You simply must ask them about some of the monsters they have killed and the kings they have toppled.” 

“But there should be another witcher, shouldn’t there, you have the Valiant Witcher and the Dark Wolf with you, but where is the other one, the White Wolf that you sang of with such ... longing and heartache?” Madeline asked innocently. She turned in surprise when she heard the hissed intake of breath from the three at her table and then looked in concern at Jaskier’s stricken expression. “Or should I not have asked? You must excuse me, Jules, I have been rather removed from the world and tend to put my foot in it quite often.”

  
  


“No, no,” Jaskier said quickly, grabbing Madeline’s hands and trying to comfort her. “You weren’t to know. The White Wolf and I had ... a disagreement of sorts and it was decided that it would be better if we parted ways. You merely surprised me, I hadn’t heard his name or thought of him recently.” 

_ If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off of my hands. _

“Geralt is a rude bastard, unlike the rest of us. He was a fucking asshole to Jaskier after he spent years running around after him making his life easier, so now we are looking after him. None of us are stupid enough to throw away his friendship, we know better than to let our frustrations cause us to loose the best thing in our life,” Lambert snarled from his position in the corner. Eskel placed a restraining hand on his arm but looked equally annoyed at the thought of the missing witcher.

“Yes, well, some people here exaggerate. It was nothing as dramatic as all that, merely a small understanding between two people with different expectations on life,” Jaskier said quickly, shooting the two witchers a sharp glance.

Yennefer glared right back at him on the boy’s behalf. “Madeline, you must excuse Jaskier. He is a complete fool when it comes to the idea of others caring about him. He has been treated monstrously,” there was only a slight mocking glance to the annoyed fossegrim at this word, “by several of those fortunate enough to count him as friends and we are having to build his confidence back up for him by force.” 

“I am glad to see that you have such caring friends, Jules. You always were one to jump into things head first, it is good to see you have people willing to patch you back together when your heart is bruised by this world. That is a blessing that far too few find. But you must be tired. Come, you will all have to stay with me tonight and tomorrow I shall take you to meet Tikhomir. I have told him so much about you and he seemed quite interested in meeting you, I think the musical connection in particular had him quite intrigued.” Madeline stood and pulled Jaskier to his feet as well. “I shall have to ready some spaces on the floor, I am afraid that I only have the one small bed and I am sure Lady Yennefer would much prefer that to the floor.” 

“Nonsense, Madeline. Any sorceress worth her salt can conjure a few cushions and blankets, we shall fare quite well on the floor and you can take your bed with no fear of disappointing your guests. Gods, these two idiots would just be happy to sleep inside rather than out in the woods where they need to keep watch, and we all know this songbird here would prefer to sleep in the lap of luxury. I am sure I can find us a happy middle.” With that, Yennefer waved Madeline’s concerns aside and with a few incantations had created a rather plush nest of blankets and cushions big enough for the four of them and then some. 

“Come cuddle with us, Maddy. I can’t bear to sleep away from you, you might disappear in the night like a ghost,” Jaskier whined dramatically, falling back onto the pillows with a groan. Eskel plopped down beside him, pulling Jaskier half on top of him before promptly falling asleep as all witchers were trained to do ( _ you have to be able to sleep at any moment, you never know when you will need your strength _ , Jaskier could hear Eskel’s rough baritone in his mind). Lambert kicked playfully at the two of them before pulling Yennefer down with him. 

Madeline looked at the group lying all over each other on the pillows with a small grin. “I would be honoured to sleep in such fine company, I am sure.” 

Jaskier had never had a better night’s sleep than the one he had that night with his friends around him and his sister right beside him. He felt as though his heart was growing in size, maybe one day it would grow enough that he would not feel the two pieces missing any more. 


	30. She’ll turn to him and say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his friends prepare to get some answers.

Jaskier woke up in a pile of bodies. He was cuddled up to Madeline, clutching her to his chest as he was held by Eskel. Yennefer was stretched out on top of him (the sorceress always said that Jaskier made the comfiest pillow) and Lambert had managed to wriggle his way up by their heads so that all of them were using him as a pillow for their heads. This was, in his humble opinion, one of the best kinds of moments in life: lying in bed surrounded by those he loved and with no threat of immediate danger. Of course, then he started fidgeting and squirming in place. There was no way he could just stay still once he was awake, even though he knew what would happen if he annoyed the others. 

“I will kill you if you do not stop moving,” Yennefer snarled, not even opening her eyes. He felt Madeline giggling where she was pressed up against his chest at the sleepy anger in the mage’s voice. 

“But you know I can't stay still in the morning,” Jaskier whined back. Yennefer cracked open her eyes to glare at him and literally hissed like a scalded cat. “It’s not like I can get out of here and go be annoying somewhere else. You are literally on top of me and I am being crushed a little bit by the very large witcher currently using me as a little spoon.”

Eskel rumbled in discontent at his little spoon shifting around and talking so much but just pulled him in tighter and murmured a husky “shush” before dropping back off to sleep. Madeline was still giggling as she squirmed out of Jaskier’s arms to look at the four of them all tangled together. 

“Do you want me to organise some breakfast while you wake them up?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“Jaskier, your sister is an angel. Why did you not say your sister was so fantastic and amazing?” Yennefer mumbled as she snuggled against him more. 

“I would love some breakfast, but don’t trouble yourself on our behalf. These two lugheads here can find us something, they need to earn their keep anyway,” Jaskier said. 

Yennefer slapped at his face until she had a hand over his mouth. “Hush, sleepy time. Let Madeline get some food and you can do the big brother thing later. Give me five more minutes to sleep and then we can go and meet this Tikhomir person and be all productive after I sleep.”

Madeline grinned at them and then started grabbing some bread and cheese from a cupboard, ducking outside for a minute to get some water to boil over the fireplace. Jaskier relaxed back into the pillows, holding Eskel’s hand in his and gently playing with his fingers. Madeline walked back in to find the two witcher’s rumbling contentedly, sounding like big cats as they hummed their contentment at the relaxed morning, and the sorceress snoring gently. She looked at Jaskier for help in waking them up and the bard smiled mischievously back at her. 

He took a deep breath and then let out a short, sharp scream, rolling away as soon as Eskel’s arms loosened and turning to watch the carnage. The two witchers sprang to their feet, hands quickly finding swords from where they had placed them within reach the night before and adopting a defensive pose. Yennefer scrambled to her feet with less poise, fire crackling around her hands reflexively. 

Jaskier and Madeline clung to each other as they laughed, using each other for support as their chuckles rocked their bodies. When they finally got themselves under control, it took one look at the annoyed, defensive looks on Jaskier’s victims faces to set them off into peals of laughter again. 

“You are so lucky you are cute, you little asshole, otherwise you would have been monster bait long ago,” Lambert swore. Yennefer flicked her hand and delivered a quick shock to the bard’s backside, while Eskel looked at him with a small grin dancing around his lips. 

“I was just waking you up so that you can enjoy the lovely breakfast Maddy is providing us with. I am sure you would hate to miss out on food with your bottomless pit of a stomach.” Jaskier tried to poke Lambert in the stomach as he spoke and was pulled into a headlock. Lambert and Eskel took advantage of the opportunity to start tickling the bard mercilessly, Yennefer and Madeline having to jump back out of the way to avoid his failing limbs. 

“If you three want to at least pretend that you have some manners and were not dragged up by wolves, come and eat some breakfast. We have things to do today and you lot are not wasting the day away with your dramatics. Madeline, come sit with me and we can have a civilised conversation. These idiots are clearly a lost cause.” Yennefer pulled Madeline to sit at the table and started serving food for the pair of them. Madeline seemed a bit bewildered by the sorceress' actions but was following along anyway, talking quietly with her about gossip she had heard from the people passing by. 

The boys scuffled for a few more minutes before calming down and joining the others at the table. “After breakfast could we go and talk to Tikhomir? I feel like I need to thank him for all he has done for me, and I have a few things he needs to know about what happened in Lettenhove,” Jaskeir said around a mouthful of bread. Yennefer sighed at his manners, they always seemed to get worse the longer he spent with his witchers. 

“Yes, of course. Usually he comes around every few days, I just head down to the river and wait for a while each day to see if he is about. He has been around more often lately, I think he said he was waiting for something, so we should be in luck,” Madeline replied. At that Jaskier started shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could, choking on a mouthful of bread in his haste and being smacked on the back by Eskel to clear his windpipe. 

“Honestly, you turn into a complete heathen when you're around these two for too long. How the hell you manage to last in court is beyond me,” Yennefer chastised as she ate her food with the knife and fork she usually used. They had spent many entertaining evenings with her trying to teach them all to use them as skillfully as she did, the bard and the witchers preferring the tried and true manner of using their hands to eat.

“Yes, I know, you lament the fact that I let my manners slip when I am not in high society. Can we go now?” Jaskier bounced in his seat like a child. 

“Fine, if everyone else is finished,” Yennefer looked around the table to see Eskel and Lambert shoving their last bites of food into their mouths and sighed. “Madeline, would you be so kind?” 

Jaskier almost threw himself out of the chair and out the door, dragging Lambert and Eskel after him by their hands. Madeline and Yennefer followed at a much more sedate pace, shaking their heads at the bard’s antics before Madeline led the way back to the Yaruga. 

Madeline sat at the side of the river, dipping her bare feet into the water and patting the ground beside her. “Come take a seat, there’s no way to predict when Tikhomir will arrive and the water is quite nice to soak your feet in.” 

Yennefer sent Jaskier a thoughtful look before saying, “I think we may be able to convince him to join us faster. Jaskier, why don’t you give me your earring?” 

Jaskier clutched his ear in shock, looking from Yennefer to his sister and back. “Yennefer, I don’t think I should. I ... how the hell do you explain something like that?” 

“She’s right, Jaskier. Think about it, your sister lives alone with Tikhomir as her only regular source of company. I’m sure she will understand.” 

Madeline looked at them all in confusion. “I don’t know what you are all talking about, but you can tell me anything, Jules. You’re my little brother, I love you no matter what.” 

Jaskier sighed and fiddled with the earring in resignation. “Alright then, just ... remember that this is who I have always been and that I am still the same person who used to sing to you.” He slowly removed the earring, feeling his teeth sharpen and his skin ripple as the glamour was removed. 

“Gods be good, you're like him, you're just like Tikhomir,” Madeline gasped, scrambling to her feet and staring at her brother in shock. Jaskier looked away, afraid to see the rejection in her eyes he felt coming. He jumped when instead of running away from him in horror she launched herself at him the same way he did to his witchers. His sharpened reflexes were the only reason he caught her and they both didn’t end up in the river. 

“This is the big secret you didn’t think I would be able to handle?” she muttered into his chest. “You’re such an idiot to think that something like this would change the way I feel about you. You’re still my little Jules, the one who got me through so many days of nothingness. You being a .. grim thingy, I didn’t really pay attention when Tikhomir explained it, doesn’t change who you are.” 

Eskel chuckled softly. “She’s definitely your sister, Jaskier. She sounds just like you when someone says something negative about us.”

Jaskier laughed wetly, hiding the tears pouring down his face in Madeline’s curls. “I was worried you would be scared of me, after all, it was a fossegrim that cursed you in the first place.”

Madeline slapped at his chest. “Don’t try and pretend you're some scary monster that I should hide from. If I can forgive Tikhomir, which I do, then there is no reason for me to be scared of you. Now get in that river and see if you can call him, I want to know how the hell we ended up with two fossegrims in Lettenhove. You would think the bloody place was being overrun with them at this rate. 

Jaskier pulled away from her, snapped a cheeky salute and launched himself into the water. He surfaced quickly, feeling that same song he had been hearing before he heard Madeline’s voice reverberating through the water. With an inquisitive tilt of his head, he started singing back. He tried to echo the song but quickly found other notes creeping in until he was singing a beautiful melody that felt like love and loss and longing. The song in the river changed slightly, an anticipatory edge joining the enticing tune. 

The fossegrim bared his teeth in an excited grin. One way or another, he would get some answers about being a fossegrim. He would finally know just how long he would have to love and care for his puppies, his kitten, and his darling sister, just how much power he had to keep them all safe and happy. 


	31. Maybe sure I’m out of my depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier meets Tikhomir.

The first they saw of Tikhomir was a ripple in the river further upstream. Jaskier dove under the water and swam towards him inquisitively, wanting to see what kind of person this fossegrim was. He ignored the concerned shouts of his friends, focused on the dark shape approaching in the water. 

A pale face swam into view, long dark hair trailing behind it. The face twisted in confusion before baring it's teeth aggressively and letting out an awful screech. Jaskier recoiled, not knowing why the fossegrim was reacting in such a way. 

"I mean you no harm, Maddy brought me here," Jaskier said quickly, holding his hands out in a conciliatory manner. 

"Maddy," the face repeated before launching past Jaskier and onto the river banks. Jaskier followed to see him binding the witchers and mage on the bank with ribbons of water, keeping them away from Madeline even as the girl protested. "

You shan't hurt her again, none of you shall touch her again," the fossegrim roared. He was tall and lithe, his clothes pale grey and flowing like the river he came from while his skin bore the same patterns that Jaskier's did. His serrated teeth were bared in anger as he twisted to keep Jaskier in view as well as the others.

Madeline moved to stand next to Tikhomir, tugging at his arm. "Tikhomir, let them be. This is my brother Jaskier and his friends. They won't hurt either of us, I promise."

The fossegrim pulled her under his arm protectively, eyes still flicking between the four of them. "They stink of magic and death, Madeline, they are not to be trusted." 

  
  


Jaskier bristled at that comment, puffing himself up defensively. “Hey, I resent that comment. We do not stink at all, there may be a slight aroma of magic and death, sure, but they are witchers and a sorceress. They aren’t whining that either of us smell like fish or anything, so calm down.” 

“And who are you? You must have followed my call, but no fossegrim I know of would travel with those that would kill us.” Tikhomir glared at Jaskier threateningly. 

“Well, who I am is rather a long story and one that might be better told if you would let my friends go. I promise there will be no violence of any kind, although I would suggest letting them go sooner rather than later, Eskel gets rather twitchy if he’s restrained for too long.” 

The fossegrim started at him intently for a moment before releasing the others. “If any of you make any moves towards Madeline, I will retaliate. Now explain how you heard my call.”

“Alright, great, fantastic, um so. Like Maddy said, I’m her brother, Jaskier. There is no polite way to say it, but when the Countess of Lettenhove decided to ... enchant you, there was an unexpected consequence that she was less than pleased with. The only reason they didn’t get rid of me before I was born was a passing mage saying that they would be punished for it. They ended up binding my magic and treating me in a similar manner to how Maddy was, so you probably know exactly how that went. I eventually ran away and became a travelling bard, music was just such a large part of my life and I felt as though I needed to be out in the world singing. Recently, the glamour that was placed on me faded, most unpleasantly I might add, and now I am as you see, fish man extraordinaire.” Jaskier finished with a dramatic flourish, smiling winningly at the other fossegrim. 

“Hmm,” the fossegrim mused. “That would explain how you followed my call. That Lettenhove bitch was a nasty piece of work, people like her are why I avoid humans. All they do is take and destroy, if there is something different then they have to exploit it as much as possible.” He bared his teeth in anger, the water in the river boiling in reaction to his emotions. 

“Yes, well, not all humans are that horrific. Some of my best friends are human. My parents are just particularly repulsive examples of the species. But why were you calling like that? Your song has been driving me crazy for the last few weeks.”

“Well, I heard through the water that there was another fossegrim not too far away. Many messages flow through this water if you have the patience to listen, and I could feel that a fossegrim had been killing other creatures of the water. It has been so long since I saw another fossegrim, so I thought I should call out and see if you would reply. I wasn’t expecting you to come so soon, I was thinking you would call back rather than coming yourself.”

Jaskier looked at him in shock. “You mean I can sing over such large distances and you would hear me? Oh sweet Melitele, you need to teach me all of the amazing things I can now do, I am so excited for more amazing abilities!”

Tikhomir chuckled at his enthusiasm. “You clearly are a young one. You do not need me to teach you what you can do, you need only to listen to the water.” 

Jaskier frowned at that. “I can respect the whole  _ wisdom of the water _ kind of thing you have going on, but some more concrete answers would be great. As my friends here can attest, I need lots of information before I figure out what to do with it all.” Yennefer and the two witchers nodded at that, small grins on their face. Lambert and Eskel were still watching the fossegrim warily and Yennefer was slowly drying her dress with her magic, muttering to herself as she did. 

“You do seem to talk a lot, young one. Well, if you insist on taking the hasty route, listen.” With that, Tikhomir started singing a haunting melody, the sound weaving through Jaskier’s mind and seeming to connect with something inside him. He instinctively started singing back, the tune coming easily to his lips even as his brow creased in confusion. It felt like hundreds of songs were flowing into his mind and it was all he could do to let it happen. He felt like if he tried to examine a song in detail he would be swept away into the dark recesses of his own mind. For once he would be sensible instead of diving head first into everything and let the songs settle before he started examining them. 

  
  


The song echoed in the air for a few more moments before Tikhomir stopped. “You may have a slight headache for a few hours, but after that things should come more naturally. Now, what do you need from me? I find myself disinclined to spend too much time here, too many memories of my time in that place.” 

Jaskier winced at that. He hadn’t been expecting much from the relationship, knowing that his mother had in reality raped the other fossegrim and chased him out of his home. He was sure that he was just a walking reminder of such an event, and an unwelcome one at that. But surely the least the other fossegrim could do was pretend to be interested in discovering he had a son? Jaskier wasn’t wanting some big, tear-filled reunion, but the fossegrim seemed disinterested entirely. 

“Do you really not want to know about your son?” Eskel said. Jaskier could hear the anger in his even tone, something that had taken him weeks to be able to detect. 

The fossegrim turned his gaze on the witcher indifferently. “You are projecting your human feelings of family and connection onto a nonhuman. I have no need for constant companionship or a sense of family, I have the water. The river provides all I need, and fossegrims are solitary by nature. You obviously have a much more human idea of relationships, I merely wanted to see if there was another fossegrim in the area, share a quick song, and then continue to enjoy my river.” 

Jaskier looked away. “Ah, yes, well. I wouldn’t want to come between you and your river. I, ah, I’ll head back to your cottage then, Maddy, and see you there.” Jaskier scrambled up the bank, feeling Lambert and Yennefer follow him while he heard Madeline start to yell at Tikhomir. He was glad that Eskel was staying and looking after her, but he needed to be somewhere else right then. 

When he got back to the cottage, Yennefer grabbed his hand and pulled him into his arms. He collapsed against her, clutching at her shoulders. Lambert moved behind him, encircling both of them into his arms. 

“Why does no one ever want to keep me?” the bard mumbled against Yennefer’s hair. He had been trying so hard to keep from getting his hopes up and he completely got it, he was a reminder of an awful time in the other fossegrim’s life, but still. 

Yennefer pinched his arm and Lambert’s arms tightened around them both. “If we can’t stay stuff like that about ourselves, then you can’t either, little lark,” Lambert rumbled. 

“You have the three of us, Jaskier, and we will never leave you,” Yennefer agreed. He shuddered in their arms, letting the warmth of their bodies seep into him. 

They stood there for a while before they heard Madeline and Eskel coming towards the cottage. They pulled apart, all three wiping suspiciously at their eyes, before turning to face them. 

“Jules, I am so sorry. He was ridiculously rude, I promise he is not normally like that. I told him how much he was missing out on being so rude to you and that he had better sort out his attitude but I am just so sorry and,” Madeline flung herself at Jaskier as she babbled. Eskel met Jaskier’s eyes over her head and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. Jaskier nodded back to him and smiled softly as the witcher relaxed before moving over to bump shoulders with Lambert. They both knew that Lambert and Yennefer were most likely having unpleasant memories of their own fathers brought up and Jaskier resolved to pay extra special attention to them that night. 

“It’s fine, Maddy, really. I wasn’t expecting much, so it’s hard to be disappointed.” Jaskier started playing with her curls, trying to reassure her.

Eskel and Lambert had been talking quietly to each other and Eskel turned to them decisively. “Jaskier, the season’s are starting to change as well. If we want to get to Kaer Morhen before it starts snowing, we will have to head off soon. Madeline, are you joining us?” 

Madeline looked at them in shock and a small amount of horror. “Um, well, you all have been so lovely and it has been so nice seeing Julian and I am so honoured you would think about me at all,” 

“But?” Jaskier said. He looked down into her eyes, knowing what was coming. As much as he had loved seeing his sister and knowing that she was alive, he knew in his heart that she would not be travelling with them. 

“It’s just, it’s a bit much. Spending so long trapped in a song, it’s made it hard to adjust to the rest of the world. I can only really tolerate other people in small doses, otherwise it just becomes so much. There’s so many sights and smells and sounds and I just, there’s a reason I live out here in the middle of nowhere. I’m sorry, Jules.” Madeline looked on the verge of tears as she spoke. 

“I completely understand,” Yennefer said quietly. “I had a similar experience, and I found it quite disconcerting to move from a world of darkness to one of so many vibrant colours. We will be sure to visit you frequently, Madeline, if only so that I can have some decent conversation.” 

Jaskier smiled through his tears at his sister. “Of course, I would hate to put you in an uncomfortable position. We can stay with you a few days more, right?” Jaskier turned to the witchers to see Eskel nod. “And then we can come and see you again next summer. We can still see each other, it won’t be like before.” 

Madeline nodded up at him before rubbing her eyes. “If we only have a few more days, we will have to make the most of them. I need to gather some more berries and such from the forest, but you must come with me and sing your songs. I’ve waited so long to hear them from you, you have to sing them all before you go.” The two joined hands and wandered into the trees together, Yennefer following them while Eskel and Lambert made noises about hunting for some meat for dinner. 

If Jaskier only had a small amount of time left with his sister, he would make the most of it. He was looking forward to winter in Kaer Morhen, but he couldn’t help the rising feeling that everything would change this winter. 


	32. Some release or respite from the heat and the hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group heads to Kaer Morhen.

After a few tear filled goodbyes, the four left Madeline's cottage. They hadn't seen any signs of Tikhomir for the last few days and Jaskier was privately quite glad. He hadn't felt quite strong enough to face a living reminder that he was unwanted by all three of his parents, especially when he was so broken up by leaving his sister just after he had found her again. Madeline had been the same, barely letting him out of her sight and constantly talking of how nice it would be to catch up again next year. 

Eventually, they did have to leave. Jaskier pasted on a cherry grin as he was pulled onto Scorpion and sang an upbeat travelling song as they rode away, wanting to leave Madeline with a happy memory of him rather than the weeping mess he felt like.

It took him several weeks to get back to his usual self, lots of quiet moments and staring off into space remembering his sister and all he had learnt about her. His friends had been very good about it, Eskel sitting with him when he was particularly silent, Yennefer drawing him into little cat fights, and Lambert winding him up so that he went off on long monologues about how he shouldn't say such things while the witcher smirked smugly at him before bullying him into singing for them. 

By the time Jaskier was back to his usual good humour, they were almost at Kaer Morhen. The doubt started creeping in, chasing away any melancholy with the thoughts of how he would be received at the keep. He was so concerned that he would mess up, that he would be told to get out and never come back in the middle of winter and have to find some way back to civilization in the middle of the snow. 

Yaskier had taken to dipping in and out of his mind to make sure he wasn’t dwelling on things, frequently scolding him and setting the witchers on him to cuddle him to death we she decided that he was “getting ridiculously over dramatic and about to make her vomit up her lunch with all the self pity he was wallowing in.” He couldn’t even be mad at her, he needed to be pulled out of the funk he kept getting himself in and he was thankful he had such good friends to help him. He just couldn’t stop the little voice in the back of his head that kept taunting him. 

_Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days it's you, shoveling it._

Eskel has to point out the mountain the keep was on to him, he was so caught up in his musings. Jaskier peered excitedly at it, trying to make out the shape of the keep in the distance and instead just making shapes out of the contours of the mountain. Eskel and Lambert laughed at him each time he pointed excitedly and asked if that was finally it. 

“It will take several days to travel the Path to the keep, little lark,” they kept repeating. “You have to be patient. We will make it before the snow starts falling, we promise.” Yennefer just snickered at him and asked if he had ever had a thought in his head without blurting it out. 

When they finally did see the keep in the distance, Jaskier almost fell off of his perch on Scorpion in excitement. He had been hamming up his reactions in an attempt to cover up his fear at what he might find there, trying to keep his puppies and kitten distracted so that he could stress in peace. What if Vesemir took one look at him and decided he wasn’t good enough for his boys? What if no one was there and the keep was haunted by ghosts instead? What if the person he was desperately hoping he wouldn’t have to spend several months in a confined space with was already there and they all decided that Jaskier would have to leave to stop it being awkward all winter? There was no way he could make it back down the mountain without becoming a Jaskier-shaped icicle. 

They reached the gates of the keep without incident, Eskel and Lambert almost vibrating with their excitement by that point. Jaskier almost felt as if all the bones in his back were being shaken out of place by Eskel’s constant fidgeting. It was unnerving to see the normal calm and composed witcher so worked up, but he was glad to see that both of them clearly had a place they liked to return to each winter. Yennefer was providing an interesting contrast, muttering to herself as she rode about how she would skin people alive if she had to go the entire winter without a warm bath and all the appropriate amenities. 

Lambert swung off of Lady Horsington gracefully and banged on the gate. “Oi, Vesemir, let us in you old bastard!” 

“Hmph, with those manners I should leave you out there for the winter. Some cold might teach you a thing or two, idiot pup,” came a voice from behind the gate. “Then again, we tried knocking the asshole out of you for a few years, didn’t do any good. Who do you have with you, I heard several horses.” 

Lambert snickered at the grouchy voice. “Vesemir, I already told you I was bringing people this winter and now you’re showing them just how great the hospitality is in this shit hole. I have Eskel, Yennefer, and Jaskier, so hurry up and let them in. They at least might put up with your grouchy old bear routine.” 

Vesemir let out a very convincing rumbling growl as the doors started opening. They revealed a large and imposing man, clearly older than the two witchers Jaskier travelled with but clearly strong enough to go out and hunt with his pups. “Come on in. Despite the crap I’m sure Lambert told you, we do know a little something about hospitality here. Get over here pups and say hello.” 

With that Eskel swung off of his horse and the two men advanced on Vesemir quickly. The pair pulled him into a big hug, looking like a group of wolves scenting each other after too long apart. Yennefer and Jaskier looked at each other happily. It was so good to see their witchers so pleased, and to know that they would tease them mercilessly for it as well. 

“Welcome, welcome. Come on in, you two. Lambert, look after the horses. Eskel, you can help me settle in your guests and get their rooms sorted. We should have a full keep this year. I just left little Cirilla studying some books and I sent Geralt out to stock up on some meat for the winter a few days ago, so he should be back in a few days.” Vesemir led the way into the keep, looking pointedly at Lambert when he tried to leave the horses and follow them until he turned with a snarl and went back to the stable. Jaskier tried to keep his face smooth at the prospect of wintering with the other witcher but didn’t miss the quick glances both Eskel and Yennefer through him. 

They barely made it into the main hall when a small blonde shape flew through the room and launched itself at Jaskier, almost knocking him to the floor. “JASKIER!” 

The bard laughed and wrapped his hands around the young girl. “It’s so good to see you, your royal highness.” She snarled and nipped at his shoulder in protest at the title. “It’s good to see you’ve gone completely feral in the time since I last saw you. Alas, the poor little princess has clearly lost her mind, the influence of so many big scary witchers turning her into a little lion cub instead. 

Ciri giggled at his words, worming her way closer to him. “I’ve always been a lion cub, you know that. I missed you so much, Jaskier.” Her voice lost the happy air and she clutched at his clothes. “I thought you had died in Cintra just like everyone else.” 

“Never fear, my darling lion cub,” Jaskier said dramatically, hoisting her into the air and spinning her so that she giggled again. “You will never escape my evil clutches. I see that Vesemir has clearly started my master plan of turning you into a little beastie and now I shall finish it off with the help of my good friend the mage Yennefer. Be afraid, little princess, be very afraid.” 

“Oh, you have friends, you have to introduce me,” Ciri said, batting at his hands to make him set her down. When he released her she turned and dropped a perfect curtsey to Yennefer. “Well met, my lady. I am Princess Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, the lion cub of Cintra, but as you are a friend of Jaskier’s you can call me Ciri. How do you do?” 

Yennefer smiled gently before sketching a brief curtsey back to her. “Well met indeed, young princess. As the bard said, I am the sorceress Yennefer.” 

Ciri bounced up and down excitedly. “Geralt told me so much about you, well as much as he ever talks about anyone.” Jaskier winced and saw Yennefer frown slightly at that, but Ciri was quickly turning to Eskel. “And you must be Eskel. Geralt said you the nice one and Vesemir said that you were the sensible one. Does that mean you never have any fun?”

Eskel chuckled at that. “No, little princess, it just means I know how to have my fun and make sure that Geralt and Lambert take the blame for it. Now, since you seem to be so well acquainted with the keep, why don’t you help me get these two settled so Vesemir can get back to his books.” 

Vesemir grinned at that and immediately turned to a set of stairs. “Ciri, look after our guests. We can continue our studies later, don’t think I have forgotten about the book you were meant to be reading. Yennefer, Jaskier, I will leave these two to settle you in and see you at dinner. Welcome to Kaer Morhen.”

Ciri danced in excitement between the three of them. “Come on, it’s been so boring with just Geralt and Vesemir here. They keep trying to make me study stuff and practice fighting. Now that you are here, Jaskier, we can play games and sing and get into trouble just like at Cintra.” 

Jaskier laughed at her excitement. “But of course. Your wish is my command. Now I was promised a warm bed and a hot bath. Which way do I go?” 

Eskel started leading the way up a different set of stairs to the ones Vesemir went up. “This is the tower the three of us usually stay in. I assume Ciri has the room above Geralt’s so we can set you up on the same floor as her. Once we show you to your rooms, I’ll show you the hot springs below the keep. Even you will be impressed, Yennefer.” With that the four of them started up the stairs. 

Jaskier tried to focus on the positives. His reception so far had been much warmer than expected. He was sure that the winter would go quickly and pleasantly and he might not even really have to see the missing witcher if he played his cards right. He would make sure this winter was a success, he wasn’t going to ruin it for the others. 

Yennefer turned and cut him with a sharp look, clearly reading his mind again. He grinned back at her and swept Ciri up into his arms. “Lead the way, Sir Witcher. I have the glorious prize, let us run before the monster Lambert comes to steal her away.” With Ciri’s giggles in his ears, he dashed up the stairs.


	33. Walk around all nonchalant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Vesemir have a talk.

Jaskier had been jumping at footfalls all day. He had been skulking around the keep, avoiding the concerned looks of his friends and pretending that he wasn’t terrified of who might come through the gate at any moment. He had spent several hours singing for Ciri, eventually having to beg off when he found he couldn’t stop staring at Eskel and Lambert talking intently with Vesemir and the three of them stealing looks back at the bard. 

The grumpy expressions on all of their faces worried him and he had decided he was better out of sight and out of mind until they stopped being mad at him. Maybe he had been singing too much or too loudly. He knew that they were probably accustomed to peace and quiet during the winter after a busy season on the Path and he was sure he was messing it up. 

Yennefer had the good sense to find some equipment left by the mages who had previously inhabited the keep in the cellars and ensconced herself in a room with them to investigate further. He should probably take a leaf out of her book and find a nice quiet space where he would be out of the way. 

With that in mind, he went hunting for the famed hot springs he had been told so much about. He got lost exploring the twisting hallways below the keep and the rooms filled with ridiculous amounts of weapons and armour. He got distracted for a while dressing up in some of the armour and swinging around some of the old swords, reenacting some of his songs to himself. He went scurrying out of the room when one enthusiastic swing knocked down several shelves of weapons with an almighty crash. That would be just what he needed, for the people already angry at him to find him trashing their things. 

He went skittering down the hallway, wishing he could just take off his earring and sing his way to the water, but he didn’t think the others had told Vesemir about his fishy little problem (and Ciri certainly didn’t know) so he didn’t want to surprise the witcher with his scaly self. He preferred his head firmly attached to his shoulders, personally. So instead he had to content himself with banging through every door to try and find the hot water he had been promised and if this all turned out to be some elaborate ruse on the behalf of his puppies to get Yennefer and himself to the keep, he would not be held accountable for what he did to them. 

Finally, he slammed open a door and was greeted by a wall of thick steam. He almost purred in satisfaction, waltzing into the room and grinning at the sight that greeted him. There were several different pools set against a rough rock wall. The room had clearly been hewn straight out of the mountain side to make the most of the pools and Jaskier mentally thanked all of the witchers that had the amazing thought to create this absolute wonder. 

He quickly pulled off his clothes, storing them in one of the many chests that lined the walls, and started snooping through the vials and jars of herbs and soaps on offer. He grinned when he spotted some lavender, pinching a few flowers out of the jar and sprinkling them into the pool. Jaskier dipped a toe into the water and let out a sigh of contentment at the heat before clambering in and sliding under the water. He surfaced with a grin, moving to a spot where he could sit with just his head out of the water and recline against the side of the pool. The scent of lavender started wafting up from the water and he let out a blissful sigh. He started humming to himself, loving the acoustics of the room and the way the heavy steam seemed to turn the room into a private slice of paradise. 

“Mind if I join you,” a rumbling voice asked. Jaskier let out an undignified squeak and slipped in his seat, falling under the water and coming up spluttering. 

“Vesemir, I didn’t hear you come in. I can leave, I’m sure you want to enjoy the peace and quiet on your own and-” 

Vesemir let out a sigh and started underdressing before climbing into the pool to sit opposite Jaskier. Jaskier kept his eyes politely averted until the man was safely under the water before he started preparing to get out. 

“Settle down, bard. You don’t need to leave on my behalf. I thought this might be a good opportunity to have a little chat with you, without my idiot pups bumbling around and getting in the road.” Jaskier winced, scared of what the older witcher may have to say to him. 

For a moment the other man watched the bard squirm. Jaskier couldn’t seem to sit still under his regard, feeling like a small child about to be told off. “My boys have been telling me a fair bit about you and your friend Yennefer. They seem to be concerned about how you will fare when Geralt returns.” 

Jaskier sunk down into the water at that, feeling like he knew exactly what was coming. He would be asked to leave to avoid making a scene and of course he would have to go, he couldn't kick a witcher out of one of the few refuges they had left. 

Vesemir quirked an eyebrow at his reaction. “Neither of my boys can tell me exactly what happened, but from what they can say I’m not surprised. It sounds like Geralt put his foot in it yet again and decided to take his frustrations out on the closest person. I’ve always told him that he needs to keep his emotions in check, the bloody fool took that to mean he had to become the emotionless monster all the idiot villagers scare their children with rather than dealing with them in a calm and controlled manner.” 

Jaskier felt hope start to grow in his chest and pushed it down ruthlessly. He couldn’t let them all blame the witcher, he couldn’t do that to the other man. “Lambert and Eskel are just being sweet. It was my fault really, Geralt did nothing wrong and really, I should have known better than to come here for the winter. I don’t want to make it awkward for anyone so I’m sure if I get my things together I can make it down the mountain to a village by the morning, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Stop,” Vesemir said in a forceful voice. Jaskier shut up so fast he just about bit off his tongue, cursing his runaway tongue. “You aren’t listening properly, little bard. You have everything all sorted out in your head and you are too busy trying to protect everyone else and make them happy that you aren’t actually listening to what I am telling you. You are not leaving this keep, especially not in the dark so that you can go and break your neck in some ravine. You are Eskel and Lambert’s guest and now you are my guest. If Geralt has a problem with that, then he can sleep in the stables with his bloody horse.” 

Jaskier stared at him in shock. He could definitely see why Vesemir was respected so much by the other witchers, the man had a commanding presence that also seemed warm and comforting. The bard had to remind himself that Vesemir was the father figure for all three witchers, he would care for his boys first and Jaskier shouldn’t allow himself to forget that and embrace some kind of fantasy. He knew better than that, he had been reminded of the fact only a few weeks ago and didn’t need to act the fool again. 

“I want to hear what happened, little bard. No lying to make it seem like it wasn’t someone’s fault, no embellishments. I won’t make any judgements and I will ask Geralt for the same once he arrives.” 

Jaskier fidgeting with his fingers under the witcher’s scrutiny. “Well, we were on a dragon hunt. I must have been annoying an usual or something,” he subsided under the glare Vesemir fixed him with, “any way, I found Geralt after it all happened and he said a few things.” 

_ If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off of my hands. _

“He made it clear the he no longer wanted to travel together. So I left. I wasn’t going to force him to put up with me. I ran into Lambert not long after and I’m sure the boys will want to tell you the rest of the story with no exciting details at all.”

“Hmph,” Vesemir said, regarding Jaskier closely. "So he left you in an unknown village with no protection?" 

Jaskier winced. "On top of a mountain, really, but I can look after myself, just ask Eskel."

“Hm. Well, you should never play Gwent, Jaskier. Your face gives away far too much.” Jaskier blushed at his words. “Clearly what Geralt said was a little more heated than you are saying. I will talk with my wolf cub when he gets back, but you are not leaving on his account. I’m sure after spending so long with my other pups, you know that Lambert and Eskel won’t let Geralt step out of line. Stay and enjoy the winter, treat the keep as your home. You’ve brought my boys out of the funk they had fallen into, made them smile and laugh again. You will always have a place in this keep as long as I am grandmaster here.” 

Jaskier couldn’t help the small smile that flitted around his lips as he dipped his head in embarrassment. “Thank you, Vesemir. I will try to be a good guest, you must tell me when I get to be a pain and I will find a quiet corner to practice in instead.” 

“I wouldn’t hear of it. It gets far too quiet in here with all the boys out on the Path now that the rest are gone. This keep could use some life again, make it a home again rather than the mausoleum it feels like at times.” Vesemir’s eyes grew distant as he focused on the ghosts of witchers long past. 

“If you wanted, I would be honoured to hear stories of the witchers who used to live here. I am sure they have many great deeds worthy of a song and the world needs to remember those that kept them safe, those they prosecuted, and wish they had not been so prejudiced.” 

A faint smile ghosted over the older man’s face. “I would like that, bard. If you feel up to it this evening, I would be happy to share some memories with a new friend. Lambert and Eskel aren’t exactly interested in the history of this place, young blood runs far too hot in my pups. It would be good to have someone willing to listen.” 

Jaskier grinned at the witcher. If this is what he had to look forward to this winter, surely it would be an unforgettable experience. He felt much more secure in his place in the keep. Kaer Morhen seemed like a big enough place and he would have plenty to keep him occupied between the three witchers, his little lion cub, and his sorceress. With any luck he wouldn’t even notice the presence of a certain individual when they returned. 


	34. A broken pot can still hold water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt returns to Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier had finally started to get to know the layout of the keep when the inevitable happened. He probably should have been expecting it and preparing, but he had gotten caught up in the feeling of having his friends around him and no rush. He had spent his days helping Ciri to avoid her studies and terrorise the witchers, his evenings sitting by the fire listening to Vesemir's stories, and his nights smothered in bed by his puppies and kitten. 

Yennefer had never even entertained the idea of sleeping in her own bed, making herself quite at home in Jaskier's their first night there. The witchers had been a bit more shy, Jaskier had almost tripped over them leaving his room that first morning as they slept just outside the doorway. To Ciri's delight, they all slept in the same bed after that. The young girl delighted in barging into their room early in the morning and flinging herself onto the bed, elbows and knees digging into everyone as she chattered away at top speed. She had adopted them all as family very quickly, something that pleased Jaskier to no end. 

But he should have been prepared for it all to come to an end. He had been wandering along the battlements, minding his own business and avoiding Yennefer’s sudden decision that Ciri must learn more about politics, when he saw the gates open and a familiar figure ride inside. Vesemir and the other witchers had been training in the courtyard and moved towards the stables to greet their brother in arms. 

Jaskier hid behind some battlements, peering around them to watch the greeting. The joy at seeing Geralt was safe and whole after so long battled the fear and pain he felt at seeing the man who had so definitively shattered his heart in one fell swoop in his chest, leaving him frozen in place. He felt as if he shouldn’t be intruding on what was clearly a private moment, the four men standing in a circle drinking in the sight of each other even as they postured and looked tough, but he reasoned that he needed to get the lay of the land before he decided how best to act. 

He saw Vesemir take a step closer to the white haired witcher, waving the others forward to help bring in the game that Geralt had hanging off of Roach. The older witcher slapped the other on his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. He seemed to whisper something in his ear before patting him on the back again and pulling back. Eskel and Lambert shot Geralt a look that was hard to define from that distance before heading back into the keep laden with the spoils of Geralt’s hunt. 

Vesemir said something to the witcher, staring at him intently before gesturing with his arm and waiting for the other to speak. Geralt’s face creased in confusion before he started talking, his posture clearly defensive. Vesemir questioned him at intervals and the other witcher seemed to grow more agitated, every line in his body radiating discomfort. Jaskier wished he was close enough to overhear their conversation, but at least from this distance there was no chance of the two men seeing, hearing, or smelling him as he eavesdropped. 

Vesemir said something, causing Geralt to hunch in on himself a bit, before pointing at the keep. Geralt slowly walked up towards the keep doors, Vesemir shaking his head before looking up at the battlements straight at Jaskier. The bard squeaked and ducked down, trying to pretend he hadn’t been spying on them. When he dared to peek back up over the edge, he saw Vesemir laughing at him before waving and heading inside. Jaskier was sure he would hear all about it that evening, but for now he needed to find a place he could hide. 

With a thoughtful expression, he started looking at the roof of the tower closest. He was sure he could scramble up there and stay out of the way for a few hours, delay the inevitable and allow everyone time to settle down now that everyone was in for the winter. He groaned and started hoisting himself up onto the roof, wishing he had spent a little bit less time enjoying Madeline’s cooking and a bit more play fighting with his boys, he was getting soft in his old age. 

“Jaskier, why are you climbing on the roof? Can I come up?” he heard Ciri’s voice behind him as he finally got himself up and onto the roof. 

“Ah, sure thing. Come here, I’ll give you a hand up,” Jaskier offered, shaking his head when Ciri ignored him and instead took a run up and then pulled herself smoothly up onto the roof. “Right, clearly you have been training like those crazy witchers, getting all strong and muscly so you can defend poor civilians like me.” 

Ciri grinned proudly at him, clambering further up onto the roof to try and find a comfortable spot to sit. “Of course I’ll protect you. Vesemir said I’m not allowed to play with the swords yet, but I found a cool dagger in one of the unused rooms and I’ve been practicing with it in my room. And I was learning how to fight before Geralt left. Vesemir said I needed to wait for the others to come but now I might be able to practice some more. I can stab anyone who’s mean to you.” 

Jaskier smiled gently to himself, ruffling her hair and climbing less gracefully after her until they were both tucked out of sight of anyone on the battlements. “I’m sure you would, my little warrior princess. I shall sleep easy at night knowing you are protecting me.”

“So why are we hiding on the roof? Did you steal something from the kitchen or annoy Yennefer again?” Ciri looked up at him with her big green eyes wide with innocence. 

“No, I just felt like appreciating the views. Thought I would try and stay out of trouble for a while, might surprise Yennefer by not driving her crazy today,” Jaskier laughed. 

Ciri grabbed his hands earnestly. “But Yennefer loves it when you annoy her. She does that funny thing where her eyes squint a little bit, like she’s trying to hide a smile, when you start singing as she’s trying to work. And Lambert and Eskel always smile when they see you coming, they never smile like that when you aren’t in the room. Even Vesemir has that funny expression on his face when he tells you stories. I’m sure you could make even Geralt smile and he never smiles.” 

Jaskier stared down into her clear green eyes, so trusting and loving. “Well, I wouldn’t expect anything too magical from Geralt. We don’t see eye to eye, I guess. Don’t worry, it’s nothing that should affect you.”

Ciri sniffed dismissively. “If you can’t make him happy, then I don’t know who could. Did you used to know each other before? You never told me any stories about him back in Cintra and Geralt never said anything, I had no idea you might have met.” 

Jaskier winced at that. “It was a long time ago and it's nothing you need to worry about. I won’t ruin the winter for anyone. The acoustics out here could be pretty good, I might spend some time on this roof practicing some of my songs where I won’t annoy everyone else.” 

“No,” Ciri whined, pulling at his hand. “You can’t hide out on the roof all the time. Vesemir said it gets really cold and your fingers might go blue and fall off and then how will you play me songs? If Geralt is going to be mean, he can go somewhere else in the keep and sulk like he normally does. You shouldn’t have to hide, I won’t let you.” 

Jaskier smiled tremulously at her. “Thank you, darling. I promise I’ll still sing for you, even if my fingers start falling off. Now, I thought you were meant to be in lessons at the moment, what brings you to my humble section of roof?” 

Ciri scuffed her foot against one of the tiles and looked away. “Well, Yennefer was telling me all about the different kingdoms and the people who rule them, but I already knew most of this. I mean, I’m the crown princess of Cintra, of course I heard all about this stuff growing up. So, when she was busy trying to find something in a book, I might maybe have snuck out of the room and gone looking for you. I had to be sneaky like a witcher and avoid everyone in the hallways. Eskel and Lambert almost caught me, but I hid in one of the bedrooms and then ran down the hallways. It took me ages to find you, you couldn’t have picked a better place to hide?” 

Jaskier snickered at her, before swearing as he heard a voice coming out onto the battlements. He and Ciri flattened themselves down to the roof at the sound of Yennefer marching out into the wind. “Ciri, where the hell are you? If I find you skiving off with that good for nothing bard, I will tan both of your hides.” 

The two stared at each other in fear, motioning frantically at each other to hide. 

“Idiots. You forget I’m a sorceress,” he heard Yennefer say before the tiles under him seemed to start heating up. The pair of them yelped as the tiles burnt their skin, sliding haphazardly to the edge of the roof and off to stand before the smug woman. 

Yennefer smirked at them, looking snug in her thick black coat with white fur trim. “I should have expected the two of you to be hiding like this. Ciri, you need to head inside, Vesemir wants you to help set the table for dinner.” Ciri groaned but at a frosty glare from Yennefer she stomped inside, whinging about chores as she went. 

“And you, idiot bard. What ridiculous rubbish have you been thinking up here? I’m sure you saw Geralt arrive and I shudder to think of the stupid, self-sacrificing crap running through that empty head of yours.” 

Jaskier hung his head at her words. “Yenna, don’t be mean to me. I just thought it would be best to give everyone a little space.” 

“Hmph,” the sorceress scoffed, grabbing his arm and leading him inside. “You’re coming down to dinner and if anyone starts anything, well then I will end it. I have to say, I am missing cursing people. You and the boys are turning me soft.”

Jaskier had no chance to protest, swiftly pulled through the keep and into the great hall. The witchers were already settled at the table, Ciri bringing the last few bowls out while the boys almost drooled over the succulent stew and bread laid out on the table. 

“Fantastic, dinner is ready,” Yennefer said, gliding to the table and pulling Jaskier into a seat beside her. He had Eskel on his other side, unfortunately leaving Geralt across the table from him. He quickly ducked his head down, keeping his eyes fixed on the table while he fidgeted with his spoon. “How good to see you again, Geralt. Make anyone else cry recently?” 

Geralt looked at her in confusion while Jaskier went bright red and kicked her under the table. 

“Yennefer, not at the dinner table,” Vesemir said sternly. 

The sorceress nodded slightly at the eldest witcher. “As you wish, Vesemir. This is your home. But I hope you do not expect me to pretend to be other than I am.” 

The witcher smiled back at her. “Of course not, you are free to speak your mind as long as it is not during a meal.” 

Geralt followed the conversation with a strange look in his eye. “Yennefer, Jaskier, I’m glad to see you both well. I was surprised to hear that you were both travelling with Eskel and Lambert here.” 

“But they are best friends, Geralt. Jaskier has written the most amazing songs about all of them and the adventures they have had. You have to sing them for Geralt, Jaskier, you have to.” Ciri’s eyes were slightly too wide to be perfectly innocent. He could almost see the scheming behind her eyes, her desire for them all to get along evident. 

Eskel and Lambert both moved uncomfortably, Eskel bumping his shoulder against Jaskier’s in solidarity as the bard focused on the stew he was spooning into his bowl. 

“I wouldn’t believe everything in Jaskier’s songs, Ciri,” Geralt said, staring across the table at the bard. 

Ciri looked between them in confusion. “I told Jaskier that you wouldn’t be mean to him. Vesemir said that if you are mean, then you have to go and run laps around the courtyard before you get any dinner. You should apologise, or you’ll be out running all night.” She fixed Geralt with a look reminiscent of her grandmother. 

“Ciri,” Jaskier admonished in a quiet voice. “Leave him be. He isn’t being mean, just eat your dinner.” 

“NO!” Ciri shouted, standing up from the table. “He isn’t allowed to be mean to you. No one’s smiling, everyone’s all awkward, and it’s not fair.” 

Vesemir and Yennefer both shot the girl a sharp look. “Sit down, young lady, and eat your dinner. Everyone is going to be polite to each other while they are under my roof, so there is no need for you to carry on like this.” Vesemir said in a kind but firm tone. Ciri subsided with an angry glare at Geralt, who was looking like he had been slapped in the face. 

“Eskel, Lambert, how has the Path been this season?” Geralt asked in a clear bid to change the conversation. 

“Far more profitable than in previous years. Travelling with a bard has many advantages, but I suppose you would already know about that,” Lambert snarled. Yennefer smiled sharply back at him while Vesemir sighed and took a long pull from a mug of Kaedwenian Stout. 

Geralt blinked at the pointed comment while Ciri beamed at Lambert. Jaskier tried to sink further below the table and wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Yes,” Eskel joined in, his usual even tone seething with a quiet anger. “It has been an interesting season. The Path is much easier when you have someone who cares for your well being along for the journey. Especially when they are such a talented bard. We managed to get better rooms in all of the inns, food that no one had spat in, and drink that tasted better than piss.” 

Geralt looked between his brothers. “I don’t know why you have some kind of problem with me,” he said in a quiet tone. “But if you want me to kick your ass, then I would be happy to oblige, any time.” 

“Oh, of course you would. You rather enjoy beating people up, physically and emotionally, you brute.” Yennefer snapped. “At least this time you are trying to pick on someone who can fight back.” 

“I thought I asked everyone to be civil,” Vesemir muttered. “Alright, if you’re determined to have this out here and now, so be it. Ciri, grab your dinner, you and I will be eating in my study. No arguing.” He stood patiently beside the table while she whined and looked pleadingly at the others before sullenly grabbing her food and stalking over to him. “For my part, I will be having words with you later, Geralt. I thought I had taught you to act with honour, clearly I failed in my task.” With that he led Ciri away, leaving the table in silence. 

“What the fuck has happened to everyone?” Geralt grumbled. “Have you all been eating some of Vesemir’s special herbs?” 

“You fucking wish, you piece of shit,” Lambert growled back. “You have been an absolute asshole and it’s time you faced the music. “ 

“Lambert, leave it,” Jaskier said quietly. All eyes snapped to him in the sudden silence. “It’s fine, honestly. Let’s just enjoy the winter and everyone can do their own thing and it will all be fine. We don’t need any arguments.” 

“This is exactly the sort of crap I told you to stop, Jaskier. Now hush and let us say our piece.” Yennefer silenced him with a quick glare before turning on the white haired witcher. “You were a rude piece of shit to me on that mountain top, laughing at my dreams and keeping secrets from me, but I thought you were at least enough of a man to keep your anger focused at the people who could stand up for themselves. I never thought you were such a hypocrite, to whine about being called a monster and then act exactly like the monster they call you to the one person who tried so hard to make you something more than that. If you say one fucking thing to my bard, one little tiny thing, I will cut off head and shove it up your arse for you, since that seems to be what you want anyway.” 

With that she pulled herself to her feet and placed a hand on the bard’s shoulder. “Come along, Jaskier. Eskel and Lambert have some things they want to say as well, but you already look like you're about to run for the hills. Come to bed with me and we can leave these two to sort it all out.” 

“Really Yennefer, you admonish me like a child and then talk about fucking the bard to get back at me. Stop being so childish,” Geralt sneered at her defensively. Eskel had to hold Lambert back at that, the younger witcher almost launching himself over the table to get at Geralt. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Geralt. Anything Jaskier and I get up to has nothing to do with you. I at least value the bard for more than the comfort he brings me on the road. Lambert, Eskel, we will see you in bed later tonight.” Yennefer grabbed hold of Jaskier’s hand and pulled him along with her as she strode out of the room. 

He heard yelling from behind him, Lambert’s voice rising about all the others to scream about how fucking stupid Geralt was to accuse the sorceress of using the bard in that way. Jaskier tucked himself into Yennefer’s side, wanting the warmth of her body to chase away the chill that conversation had left him with. It would be a long winter at this rate. 


	35. The words that shone are all but gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First blood is drawn

Breakfast the next day was supremely awkward. Jaskier had almost been smothered the night before, his friends all trying to offer their support and make sure he was alright. Even Ciri had decided she was sleeping in their room that night, using Jaskier as a pillow and pulling Yennefer’s arms over her as a blanket. When he managed to coax them all out of bed, the four of them all prepared for breakfast with the steely eyed determination of people marching off to war. 

“Honestly, I’m fine. You don’t have to protect my honour or anything, we can just all get along and have a nice winter,” he repeated for the hundredth time.

Yennefer patted his head. “Don’t be silly, Jaskier. No one gets to crush your heart into a million pieces and then pretend that everything’s fine. There have to be consequences for people’s actions.” 

Ciri looked at her in open mouthed shock. “Geralt broke Jaskier’s heart? How could he be so mean to someone so nice?” She turned to Jaskier with the steely resolve of the Lion Cub of Cintra. “I won’t let him say anything mean to you. If he does, I’ll make sure he regrets it.” 

“Now look what you’ve done,” Jaskier moaned. Yennefer smirked at him unrepentantly. “You lot are impossible. I don’t want anyone to feel awkward this winter. This is Geralt’s home, he shouldn’t have to feel hunted here.” 

Lambert snarled. “He should have thought of that before he was a bloody pillock. He’s a big boy, Jaskier, he can take his lumps. Hell, nothing we do to him is going to compare to the torture dished out in this place, so don’t worry about ruining his happy memories of this place.”

“Ugh,” Jaskier screamed. “You lot are impossible. Shut up and let’s go down to breakfast. If any of you try to start shit, I won’t help you when Vesemir decides to kick your ass.” With that he led the way down to the Great Hall, Ciri trying to keep up with him and looking murderous. 

Vesemir and Geralt were already seated, the air between the two tense as Geralt stared out the window and Vesemir looked at his pup in disappointment. 

“Good morning all,” Jaskier said. He tried to project his usual enthusiasm as Vesemir passed bowls of porridge around the table, but his voice came out a little strangled. He slunk into an empty chair and sighed as Eskel and Lambert sat beside him and glared across the table at Geralt like they were his bodyguards. 

Geralt nodded at him, looking between his two bookends in confusion. Vesemir turned to the bard with a smile. “Good to see you, Jaskier. Will you be composing today, or would you like to help me organise the library today?” 

“You have a library? How have I not found this yet? Of course I will help you, I can only imagine what wondrous texts you have hidden away. Oh, this is going to be fantastic.” Jaskier grinned at the elder witcher happily, feeling his bodyguards relax a bit at his joy. 

Geralt scoffed, bringing Jaskier back down from the cloud he had been on. “I wouldn’t trust the bard to help you, Vesemir. He’s more likely to make a mess than help clear up. And do you really want him looking at witcher texts? We don’t need our secrets shared all over the Continent in his next song.” 

Jaskier wilted. “Of course, I’m sure there are things in there you don’t want me reading. I can leave you to it, Vesemir, I’m sure I would only be in the way.” 

Ciri slipped from her chair and ran over to Geralt. “Leave him alone!” she shouted. She pulled a dagger out of her sleeve and quickly stabbed at the witcher. His surprise at her attack left him frozen, so the dagger opened up a bright red line down his arm. Ciri stared at the wound in shock, looking between Geralt’s arm and the dagger in horror.

“Come here, little lion cub,” Jaskier said softly. Ciri turned and threw herself at the bard with a wordless cry, the dagger tumbling to the floor where Eskel swiftly grabbed it and secreted it away. “You know better than to go stabbing people when they upset you, don't you?” Ciri cried into his chest but nodded, probably rubbing snot and tears all into his shirt. He sighed and stroked her hair. “Now, I know you were just trying to be nice to me, but you shouldn’t have hurt Geralt. You are the crown princess of Cintra, not some little vagabond. What do you need to do now?” 

Ciri clutched at his shirt a moment longer before pulling away and wiping at her face with her sleeve. She turned to face Geralt, still sitting in the chair with a confused and hurt expression. “I’m sorry, Geralt. Even if what you said was really rude, I shouldn’t have tried to stab you.” She looked back over her shoulder to see Jaskier nod encouragingly to her. “But you need to be nice to Jaskier. He is the best bard in all the Continent and you broke his heart so now you have to make it up to him.” She turned with a defiant expression on her face and plonked back down into her seat, pulling her bowl of porridge towards her. 

Vesemir laughed at her. “Well, Geralt. You can’t say she lacks fire, should make it much easier to train her up. Stop looking like a poleaxed badger and eat your breakfast. And keep a civil tongue in your head, Jaskier is my guest and if I think he is worthy of looking at our texts, then by the gods he will. Jaskier, you’re not being silly and sulking all day. The others all have things to do, so you can help me.” 

Jaskier nodded, smiling down at his bowl. “Sure. I would love to help.” 

Eskel and Lambert made noises as if they were about to protest before Vesemir cut them off. “You two can teach the girl how to properly handle a blade. She seems to have learnt all her skills in the middle of the woods, she has no style or aptitude.” They nodded at his words and Ciri beamed at them, bouncing in her seat. 

“I shall be in my room. I have some meetings I need to conduct on my megascope, so I would appreciate some quiet.” With that, Yennefer grabbed her bowl of porridge and left the table. 

The two witchers on either side of Jaskier were subjected to Ciri’s wide eyed stare until they started eating faster before pulling her off to the training grounds. Vesemir looked between Geralt and Jaskier, who was hurriedly trying to shovel food in his mouth to avoid being left alone with the white haired witcher, and smiled mischievously. “I’ll meet you in the library, Jaskier. I have a few things to clear out before we start, so take your time and then Geralt can show you the way.” 

Jaskier almost spat his food out at that, but the witcher was already out of the room, his whisteing bouncing back down the halls. He looked nervously up to see amber eyes staring back at him and quickly fixed his eyes back on his bowl. 

Geralt cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your bodyguards are rather vicious.” 

Jaskier blushed, poking his spoon around his bowl. “My apologies. I have told them that there is no call for them to be upset on my account. My business is my own and I do not want them making you uncomfortable in your own home. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of your unhappiness.” The words from their conversation on the mountain top felt like a heavy weight in the air to the bard, almost crushing him under the weight of the heartbreak and misery they had caused. Every moment he spent with the man he had devoted decades of his life to, only to find out that he was an unwanted burden, seemed to burn his veins like acid.

“Hmm, well, I can’t say I expected to see you here. Couldn’t handle the Path alone and had to find a new witcher to take care of you?” Geralt looked at him with amusement in his eyes but Jaskier felt every word like a knife to the heart. 

“No, I just ... Lambert and Eskel seemed to appreciate the company and I’ve grown to care for them and ...” Jaskier trailed away into silence, not wanting to voice his thoughts, not wanting to say that travelling with his witchers made him feel like he had a place in this world that there were people out there who might find his company amusing for more than a night. 

“Well, you must have learnt to limit the constant chattering and singing then, I can’t imagine Lambert tolerating that shit day in and day out. And you have Yennefer travelling with you too, I thought you hated her.” 

Jaskier dared a look up from his bowl to see Geralt wearing that ugly smirk he had when he entered a village he suspected he would be treated poorly in, one that almost seemed to scream _yes, I am a monster, watch me bite_. No good ever came of that smirk and Jaskier was reminded yet again of the fact that there was no reason to resent that smirk being turned on him. He was no one special to the witcher, so why wouldn’t he be treated like all the others who had hurt Geralt in his life. “Ha, yes, Yennefer and I have ... reached an understanding of sorts.” 

“You better watch out for her, Jaskier. You are just a mortal playing with those much more powerful than you. Yennefer always has schemes inside of schemes, she’s probably just using you for the fame she brings you.” Geralt adopted a knowing look, as if he was imparting some great wisdom on the bard. 

Jaskier seethed at that, unable to constrain his anger at the witcher’s slander. “Look, you can say what you want about me, I already know you think I’m pathetic and useless and the worst thing that ever happened to you. You told me all of that on that gods damned mountain. But you can leave Yennefer out of it, you have no right to speak of her like that. She is a lovely woman and a wonderful friend. She at least has never thrown my friendship back in my face the way some I could name have. Now I am going to find Vesemir. I will see you at dinner time, Geralt. Good day.” 

He flounced out of the room, hurt and indignation keeping his misery and embarrassment at bay for a few moments. He was sure once he reached Vesemir he would most likely burst into tears, but there was no way he would ruin this dramatic exit with his tears. He wouldn’t give Geralt the satisfaction of seeing how much he had hurt him.


	36. I’ll scream, but you won’t hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier reacts to his conversation with Geralt.

Jaskier had meant to try and find the library, he really had. He had set out with the best of intentions, fighting his tears back and intending to throw himself into helping Vesemir. Instead, he found himself outside of the room with the baths. 

With a sigh he opened the door and wandered in. Everyone else was busy, they all had things to do to help each other and maintain the upkeep of Kaer Morhen, so he had the place to himself. Quickly shucking his clothes and hiding them in one of the chests, he chose the pool furthest from the door and slipped in. The keep was clearly built to house many more witchers than were left, something that usually broke his heart but today was a blessing as it meant he was well out of sight in the steamy room. 

Jaskier gently slid his earring out and placed it on a ledge at the side of the hot spring where he could easily reach it before ducking under the water and curling up into a small ball at the bottom of the pool. No one would be able to smell the salt of his tears as it mixed with the natural minerals found in the pools and with his enhanced senses he would have plenty of time to put his glamour back on it anyone approached.

The fossegrim sang softly to himself in the water, trusting that it would keep his voice from carrying beyond that room. He hadn't known what he expected, but it certainly hadn't been the way Geralt treated him almost like a stranger. He knew the witcher hadn't appreciated his company, he had made that exceptionally clear to the bard, but to act as if Jaskier was just one more human ready to condemn him as a monster and ride on the coattails of those more powerful felt like a knife to the heart. It didn't matter that Jaskier knew this to be untrue, hell it wasn't like he was fully human anyway, but to have decades of trying to be the man's friend and bring him some comfort in a world that vilified him, dare he admit to having cared for the witcher more than he had for another person, that was a pain that he feared would never leave him. It was a knife lodged firmly under his ribs, turning and twisting a little more every time he was reminded of how little he meant to the white haired witcher.

The fossegrim lost track of time, safe in the embrace of the hot water. He was so wrapped up in his song and the pulsing pain under his ribs, he startled when he heard voices in the hallway outside. He popped his head above the water to scent the air, unwilling to leave the comfort he had found and put his earring back in unless it was necessary. 

He had gotten pretty good at identifying people by their scents, his friends providing willing test subjects, so it was easy to pick out the faint aroma of herbs and metal that had come to mean witcher to him, so different from the hot, electric smell of chaos that clung to Ciri and Yennefer. There was no hint of Lambert's hot spice or Eskel's gentle but dependable earthy scent. Vesemir smelt somehow of the rocky permanence of his keep, something solid and reassuring about his scent, while the smell of coppery weariness and steely determination brought the last witcher he currently wanted to see to mind. 

Jaskier focused to make out the conversation between the two witchers, ready to duck back under the water and hide if they decided to come in. "He's in the baths, Vesemir, his scent leads to the door. That bloody glamour he's gotten from Yennefer reeks. Must have decided to skive off helping you and hide down here."

There was a brief smacking sound and Geralt let out a grunt of pain. "What happened to that little boy he dreamt of nobility and heroism? He would be horrified to see you so rude to someone who once saw you as a friend. I know that I am less than impressed to see you living up to all of the stories they tell about us. Have you decided to become the monster they call us after all?" 

Geralt hummed in annoyance. "If I'm acting like a monster, it's because that's how you raised me," he fired back heatedly. There was a moment of silence where Jaskier could smell the disappointment radiating off of the older witcher. He resisted the urge to whimper submissively, wanting to make the smell go away. 

Vesemir replied in a tired voice. "I expect this from Lambert, not you. What has happened to make you so vicious? Why take your anger out on those who care for you?" 

It sounded like Geralt punched the wall in frustration. "The bard needs to leave, Vesemir. He can't be here with us." There went the knife under Jaskier's ribs again, twisting away painfully. 

"And why is that? You must have a good reason to say who can and can't stay in this keep? Last I checked, I was the only grandmaster here." 

Geralt snarled in anger, clearly not wanting to explain himself further. "He's human and breakable, Vesemir. He will get himself killed if he continues to associate with witchers and sorceresses. The other humans were already changing the way they reacted to him after we had traveled together for a few years, less and less falling into bed with him and more keeping their distance as they muttered about the witcher's bard. He is too young and naive to understand how much he is ruining himself and the danger he is in with us." 

Vesemir snorted. "Now it all makes sense. Let me guess, you decided to save him from himself. That's why you sent him away years ago and why you are trying to force him from the keep now."

"He could die so easily. The bloody knight that Yennefer had dragged along on the dragon hunt was killed in the dead of the night and all I could think was that the same could happen to him at any time. I won't be responsible for another person's life being ruined, I refuse. Destiny can get fucked if it thinks I will let it do this to me again." 

Vesemir sighed sadly and Jaskier could hear him pulling Geralt into a rough hug. "My stupid, noble little pup. The world does not revolve around you. You need to let others make their own decisions and respect them. Until you realise exactly what you have done in your heroic quest to save the bard from himself, I believe you are going to have a rather uncomfortable winter. Do yourself a favour, go for a run and think about why everyone is so angry with you right now. Even your thick skull should be able to process that." 

After a huff there was the sound of footsteps walking away from the room and Jaskier relaxed into the water again as his mind raced.

He ducked back under the water, about to start singing to himself again when the surface of the water rippled as someone entered the water. He panicked, trying to make himself as small as possible and hide under all the steam, but a hand came down and pulled him up by the arm. 

"My pups might be thick enough not to recognise your scent, but I've seen a fossegrim or two in my time." Vesemir grinned down at the bard, holding him like an unruly pup. 

Jaskier sputtered in panic. "I can explain, I promise, I'm not going to hurt anyone, ask Eskel and Lambert."

Vesemir moved him so that he was sat on a ledge and released him with a rumbling chuckle. "Not to worry, little bard. I know you aren't a problem. Hell, you could probably give us a rather entertaining concert one night once you feel comfortable enough showing Geralt and Ciri who you are. I won't rush you, but think about letting them know. Ciri would never do anything to hurt you, and despite all his gruff neither would Geralt."

Jaskier looked at him in surprise. "Um, alright. I won't be telling anyone in the near future. I don't really want to end up filleted like the lastest catch of the day. But if you wanted, I suppose I can sing for you? If you wanted, I mean I did bail on you instead of helping with the books and all." 

"I would be honoured to hear you sing, Jaskier. Then we can go and have a look at those books. I was planning on having you come across a few with some histories of fossegrims you might find enlightening, but I suppose we can skip the subterfuge and I can just show them to you." Vesemir smirked at him smugly. 

Jaskier grinned at him. "You sly old dog. I should have known you would be especially talented and amazing given the little puppies you raised. Thankfully, I have all winter to come up with a suitable song for the Alpha Wolf of Kaer Morhen. For now, you will have to make do with one of my earlier songs." 

Vesemir nodded thankfully at him and Jaskier threw his head back, letting the magnificent acoustics of the room and his magically enhanced voice spill through the air. With the eldest witcher proudly watching him sing and clapping appreciatively between songs, Jaskier resolved to do whatever it took to keep that expression directed at him. The warmth of that gaze almost thawed the ice in his heart from his first real friend's rejection.


	37. Take hold of all your books and fold the corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier explores the library.

Vesemir sat in the corner of the library and watched Jaskier flit around the room exclaiming over all the books he found. 

"Vesemir, I haven't seen a collection of these folktales outside of Oxenfurt, and those were kept out of reach for most people. You have a veritable treasure trove of tales here, oh this is just the best winter ever. Are you sure I am allowed to read all of these?" 

"They deserve to be read, Jaskier, and Eskel is the only one of my pups who bothers to pick up a book, even if it is usually a bestiary.Since we lost most of the others these books have been neglected. I am starting to doubt if you are a fossegrim though, you're showing some draconic tendencies here." Vesemir chuckled at his own joke as Jaskier pulled his tongue out at him. 

"Very funny, Master Witcher," he retorted as he stroked his hand along the spines of books reverently. "I am afraid this particular predilection for books is something all Oxenfurt graduates tend to share, nothing magical about it. But really, how do you expect me to react when you have a first edition copy of some of the most rare elven texts in the entire Continent? I may have died and passed into a perfect world here." 

Jaskier swooned dramatically against the shelf before noticing a particular volume that looked relatively new but well worn. "Is this a copy of my songs? I wasn't aware that they were producing these. I have officially made it as a bard to last throughout the ages! I shall die a happy man now, you will have to break the news to my puppies and kittens, or is a lion cub not a kitten? Nevermind, you will have to tell them all regardless and organise a grandiose funeral to celebrate the famed bard Jaskier." 

Vesemir chuckled at the dramatic manner in which the bard decided to collapse to the floor clutching the book. “If you are quite finished with your melodrama, you would know that I won’t have to be informing them of your death anytime soon if you had been reading some of those books about fossegrims instead of losing your mind about every book you find. You’re rather hard to kill, unless you get a silver sword to the heart or go losing your head. That healing stuff you can do comes in handy apparently, it’s the reason I was so surprised those idiots of mine never cottoned on when you didn’t show any signs of aging. There is no way you could pass for a forty year old man, Jaskier, even you should have been suspicious. 

Jaskier looked up at him indignantly. “I moisturise, I will have you know. I had always thought it was just my exhaustive skin care routine, but no, apparently I was throwing money down the drain because I have superhuman healing that means I will look as amazing as I do now forever. Ha,” the fossegrim sat bolt upright, grinning triumphantly. “That means I get to watch Valdo Marx get old and ugly and wrinkly and even worse at performing. This is the happiest day, it really is." 

"Who's old and wrinkly?" Ciri's voice came from the doorway. She saw Jaskier lying on the floor and jumped on him in joy, knocking the air out of him with a wheeze even as his arms came around her. 

"You will be before you touch a knife again if I hear that you are skipping training." Vesemir threatened as he came over and ruffled her hair. "I thought my boys were putting you through your paces." 

Ciri turned an innocent smile up to Vesemir. "Eskel told me to come and play with Jaskier when Geralt came out to join. Lambert said that the asskicking they were about to give Geralt wasn't something for little girls to see, which I think is ridiculous since I've seen people die before and I doubt they are going to kill him because then Jaskier would be sad." 

"Oh for fucks sake," Jaskier moaned, thumping his head back against the floor and then wincing at the pain. "Vesemir, could you not have taught the puppies to solve their problems with something other than their fists?" 

"Jaskier, I think you forget that I am a witcher too. If I didn't have to play the peacekeeper to keep this place running, I would be down there handing that boy his ass for his pigheaded mistakes." Vesemir bared his teeth in a savage smile that had CIri jumping to her feet with a warcry of her own. 

“Yeah, if Geralt is going to be a meanie, then we should be allowed to smack him. I was talking to Yennefer before and she said that if he was mean again, then I should stab him harder.” She looked so feral as she stared at him, he could see the influence of her grandparents and the witchers that had been looking after her recently. Jaskier couldn’t help but be proud, he loved Ciri like she was his daughter and he was so glad that she would be prepared to to defend herself if she ever needed, not that she would ever need it with a keep full of witchers, a crazily powerful sorceress and a fossegrim removing any threats in her life. 

“While I appreciate the scarily violent approach to teaching Geralt manners, maybe we should try using our words first. You should be so glad you have me know, my little lion cub, or these witchers would turn you into a proper savage within a week.” He pulled her back into a cuddle, giggling at the way she squirmed in his grasp. 

“What if I want to be a savage? I can be a little wolf pup as well as a lion cub and then I can sleep in the puppy piles with you. Eskel said it was wolves only, which is clearly a lie because Yennefer is not a wolf and neither are you. And I wanted to sleep in your bed, cause Lambert said that you chase away all the sad thoughts so that they can’t have bad dreams about people being mad at them. Are you magic, Jaskier, is that how you chase the bad dreams away?”” 

“You are always welcome to come and sleep with us, darling, especially if you are having bad dreams. Ignore Lambert and Eskel, I always do. Those two are just being silly because they want to get the best spot in the bed, but we can show them. How about tonight we have a slumber party, we can grab all the best pillows and blankets and set up a pillow fort in the great hall with the fire going all night and have warm drinks and cuddles and stories, can’t we Vesemir?” Jaskier turned his biggest, most adorable pleading expression to the elder witcher and smothered a giggle when Ciri quickly did the same. 

Vesemir pretended to think about it for a moment, a smile dancing in his eyes as Ciri wiggled in excitement and tried to make her eyes as big as possible. “I suppose I can allow you to desecrate my great hall with your slumber party, under one condition.” 

“Anything,” Ciri promised quickly, doing a little happy dance in Jaskier’s arms. 

“Everyone in the keep is invited to the slumber party and there will be no being mean to anyone. We can make it a rule upon entry, no one is to say anything bad about anyone else or they have to go back to their own rooms, and I will be the judge of that. I don’t trust those idiot pups of mine not to turn it into an opportunity to kick each other out. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” Ciri crowed, dancing around the room now. “Jaskier, you have to bring your lute and you can sing us songs and tell us amazing stories and we can stay up all night and then sleep all day and this is going to be the most amazing thing ever. I have to go and tell everyone!” WIth that she went flying out of the room, calling out everyone’s names excitedly. 

“What have we unleashed?” Jaskier joked as he pulled himself up from the floor. He tried to ignore the slight panic in his chest at the idea that Geralt would most likely join the slumber party and he would have to keep himself from clinging to the other man in the way his heart wanted so desperately. 

Vesemir sighed. “I suppose we can always have the child friendly drinks and some others available. I’m sure the pups will enjoy the opportunity to cut loose and you and Yennefer can join them. I can look after Ciri but I think you all need to relax just for a night or two and some liquor might be just the thing to help.” 

Jaskier beamed at him. “A chance to drink my way through the famed cellars of Kaer Morhen, you spoil me, Vesemir. As long as you make sure I keep my hands to myself, I have been told that I am a rather affectionate drunk.” 

Vesemir patted the bard on his shoulder. “Now that is something I will enjoy seeing. Go and find your lute, little bard. I am sure her royal highness will be back in a moment to put us all to work building her pillow palace.” 

Jaskier laughed as he headed out of the room. “Yes, I am afraid I rather put my foot in it there, but it will provide a most excellent opportunity for you to see how much you enjoy the cuddle piles. You are welcome at any time, Vesemir, I hope you know that. I am sure it would make your pups exceedingly happy to have more of their family join them, they seem to find it rather reassuring to have all the people they worry about safe in one place where they can keep an eye on us all.”

Vesemir looked at him for a moment, his eyes seeming to shine in the light. “I would like that, Jaskier. Thank you.” Then the witcher left quickly, leaving Jaskier to prepare for what was sure to be a long night of singing and telling stories for his little princess. 


	38. We’ll build a den out of pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pillow fort is built.

The pillow fort turned into a much larger debacle than Jaskier had anticipated. While the keep had several beds in it and was clearly meant to service far more people than were currently residing in it, there had been little upkeep on those beds. It seemed the witchers had merely moved the mattresses and cushions around the keep as they fell apart so that there were many broken and useless ones stored around the place and the only goods ones to be found were already in use on someone’s bed. 

Ciri had found an easy solution to that, cheerfully pulling the more damaged ones down into the great hall and proceeding to rip them apart and beg Yennefer to magically fashion one giant mattress out of the remains. When Jaskier had laughed at her, covered in feathers and moss as she tried to smile winningly at the unimpressed sorceress, she had turned with a scowl and jumped on him, pushing him back into the mess she had made and trying to bury him in it all. 

When he finally emerged from the pile of feathers, he had joined Ciri in her begging, convincing Yennefer to not only create a giant mattress for them to use as the base but also to summon lots of cushions and swathes of fabric from her home in Vengerberg with the idea that if they were going to make a pillow fort it should be worthy of the magnificent mage. Ciri and Jaskier had then found themselves up to their necks in fabric and cushions, something that had them crowing happily and Yennefer smiling indulgently at them both. 

Having a sorceress made the construction of the pillow fort much easier than anticipated, but also left them a lot of room to argue over the perfect placement of each object. Using the giant mattress as a base just in front of the fireplace, Jaskier and Ciri directed Yennefer to hang the fabrics from the high ceiling to create a closed in, tent like space for them with the multicoloured fabric providing walls to block out the rest of the keep from their comfortable refuge. 

Then came the placement of pillows within the fort to provide optimal places to cuddle up and enjoy the atmosphere. Using some of the less attractive and comfortable cushions to make a ring around the edge, the pair then entertained themselves for an hour strategically placing the pillows around the fort to make space for the seven of them to either sit or lie together for the night. Jaskier had tried to convince Ciri that it didn’t matter where the pillows went, as they would end up moving them all once they were all in anyway, but the princess was insistent that it must look as pretty as possible for when they showed it all off to the witchers. 

Once the pair were happy with their work and Yennefer had summoned several soft fur blankets to adorn their mattress, Ciri decided it was time to go and collect the others for the night. “I want to be the one to tell them all. Do you think they have ever had a pillow fort before, Jaskier?”

Jaskier smiled at her concerned expression. His little lion cub was so adorably protective of her new family, so determined that they should be happy and cared for as they did the same for her. “I don’t believe they have, my darling. You should bring them in blindfolded, I am sure they would appreciate the surprise.” 

Yennefer snorted in laughter and nodded seriously when Ciri turned questioningly to her. “Of course, my little one. I will help you blindfold them and bring them all in, while Jaskier can go and get Vesemir. I believe he is in the cellar choosing tonight’s selection, mind you don’t get stuck sampling the drinks.” 

Jaskier poked his tongue out her and headed down the stairs as the girls went outside chattering away. He could hear Vesemir muttering away to himself as he got close to the cellar, musing over what kinds of wine and liquor would be needed for the night. 

“Have you made your choice yet, Vesemir, or do I have to tell Ciri you are going to be late to her slumber party because you couldn’t choose which drink to bring up for the night?” Jaskier teased. 

Vesemir turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “I was trying to decide how nice to be to you and the mage, if we should take your delicate sensibilities into account or just go with some of the hooch Lambert and Eskel brew every winter. Since you decided to be so rude, I think we will go with the hooch, now help me carry this barrel up.” 

Jaskier laughed and helped Vesemir to heft the barrel up the stairs. Jaskier was well aware that Vesemir could most likely carry the barrel up himself, but he was letting the fossegrim at least pretend to help him. 

They managed to get back to the great hall before the others, Vesemir admiring their construction even as he deemed it “a colourful waste of cushions” in a gruff tone that clearly was meant to cover up his excitement. Jaskier grinned knowingly at him, his smile only widening when the witcher scowled back at him, before they heard the three witchers coming into the great hall and Ciri dancing excitedly around them as Yennefer followed behind. 

“Jaskier, come help me do the big reveal,” Ciri said excitedly, jumping around the room in excitement. Jaskier grinned and wandered over.

“Alright, milady, choose your victim. Yennefer, come help pull a blindfold off.” Jaskier giggled as Ciri stood determinedly behind Geralt, jumping up to see if she could reach the blindfold before Yennefer summoned her a box to stand on. He took his place behind Eskel and watched Yennefer do the same behind Lambert. “Count it down for us, Ciri.” 

“Three, two, one, tah dah!” With a dramatic flourish the three of them pulled the blindfolds off, grinning at each other at the confusion and awe on the witchers’ faces.   
“It's so ... colourful,” Geralt mumbled. He looked down at Ciri in confusion before looking back at the pillow fort. 

“You have to come inside and see, come on Geralt,” Ciri squealed, pulling at the witcher’s hand. With an air of bemusement the witcher allowed the little girl to lead him into the fort, making appropriately admiring noises as she told him all about how hard she had worked to construct it all (by herself from the sounds of things).

Lambert and Eskel looked at Jaskier and Yennefer in confusion while Vesemir chuckled at their expressions. “What are we meant to do with it?” Eskel asked quietly. 

“Enjoy it, my adorable little puppies. We are all going inside where there is lots of blankets and pillows. We can tell stories, sing songs, and just enjoy each other's company. Vesemir has said that everyone has to be polite to each other once we are inside, or you will be sent to your room by yourself, so I suggest all four of you watch your tongues.” Jaskier stared menacingly at his two witchers, knowing that Geralt would hear his warning as well. Hopefully the idiots would be able to play nice just for one night, he didn’t know how much more drama he could take without at least one night to rest.

“We promise to behave in your magical wonder pillow cave, you asshole. It’s not us you have to worry about anyway, we aren’t the ones who are complete pillocks for no reason other than the fact we are giant dicks with no idea of tha amazing things that they have passed up,” Lambert said with a pointed look at the fabric tent. 

There was a growl from within and Jaskier sighed before stepping forward to smack his silly puppy upside the head. Lambert frowned sadly at him in return, as if Jaskier had done more than given him a slight tap. 

“Watch yourself, dumbass, this is exactly the kind of shit I am talking about. If any of you ruin this for Ciri with your whinging and your sniping, there will be no cuddles for a week. You don’t want to test me, boys.”

Yennefer laughed at the two witchers who were staring in horror at the bard until he turned on her. “Don’t think you are exempt from this, missy. If you start trying your little kitty claws tonight, I will be kicking you out of the room and if you try and magic your way in, I’ll scream so my big bad witchers come and haul you out.” He wagged his finger in her face, fighting a grin as she smirked at him. 

“It’s adorable that you think you can scare me, little lark. Now cut the shit and let’s get to the cuddling. I helped build this monstrosity, so I better get bard cuddling privileges tonight.” 

She turned and waltzed into the pillow fort, the four men following her and grinning at the excited babbling they could hear coming from Ciri inside the fort. It was sure to be a fantastic night, as long as everyone could keep their tempers under control. Hopefully it would bring his witchers a little bit of the whimsy their lives seemed so devoid of. Plus, who could resist four grumpy wolves all snuggled up in their den. Not this bard, that was for sure.


	39. And get drunk again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slumber party continues.

One Jaskier hustled his pups inside and got them settled, they all turned to him expectantly. None of them had any real idea what to do next, and the idea broke his heart a little. Sure, Jaskier hadn’t had the best childhood himself, but he had at least built himself pillow forts (mainly out in the woods with stolen materials) and brought Maddy to them to enjoy the comfort and quiet atmosphere. 

“What do we do now?” Eskel asked quietly. He looked nervously around as if he expected to be judged for his insecurity. 

“Now, my friends, we get comfy, have some drinks, and tell some stories. Vesemir, are we trusting you with the drinks tonight?” The eldest witcher nodded and moved to go and fetch some cups. “Lambert, darling, go and help. Bring back some snacks or something and we can make a real party out of it.” The youngest witcher pulled a face at the order but moved to help anyway, Yennefer smirking at him and muttering “whipped” under her breath while Geralt looked from Lambert to Jaskier in confusion. 

Ciri wriggled where she had made herself a nest in all of the pillows. “When they get back, will you tell us a story, Jaskier? Oh, you should sing us a song first though, Geralt hasn’t heard many of your new songs I don't think. He would love to hear them all.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally, his eyes darting from Jaskier’s face to his hands and back again repeatedly. 

“Well, since Geralt has asked me so nicely himself and done such a good job of throwing his voice, I suppose I might be convinced to sing a song or two. I’ll need to go and grab my lute though.” He moved to crawl out of the fort but was stopped by Ciri excitedly pulling the instrument out from under some blankets with a flourish. 

“I already thought of that and Yennefer helped me to find it before we went to find the others. Now you can sing us a song straight away,” Ciri beamed at him proudly. He couldn't resist the gleam in her eyes. She was too adorable and deserved all the happiness she could get. 

“Alright, which song would you like first, your royal highness?” 

Ciri squirmed out of her seat and cuddled up to Geralt, pulling his arms around her and snuggling up to his side like he was her own personal teddy bear. “Sing the one about Yennefer. You make her sound so cool and scary, I want to be cool and scary too.” 

Jaskier laughed at her while Yennefer preened. Eskel bumped shoulders with the sorceress. “You will be very scary, little cub. How could you be otherwise, with four witchers, a sorceress, and a bard raising you like this?” the witcher said. The young girl preened as Jaskier started singing. 

The bard tried to ignore the way Geralt’s golden eyes stayed fixed on him throughout the song, even as he gently stroked a hand along Ciri’s arm. He felt the weight of that stare, moving slowly from his face to his hands as they played the lute and back to his face again as he sang. Jaskier fought back his nerves at being studied so intensively. He knew that Yennefer and Eskel would most likely give him grief for it later, but he couldn’t help the slight waver in his voice. 

Thankfully, as he finished the song Lambert and Vesemir rejoined them, saving him from continuing to sing as he leapt to help them settle everything in the middle of the fort. He could feel those eyes glued to him but did his best to seem unaffected. 

“Did we miss the first song, little lark?” Lambert asked as he tried to take a place cuddled up against the bard. Yennefer bared her teeth at him in a manner she seemed to have taken up from the witchers and moved in to press most of her body up against Jaksier in a clear display of dominance. Lambert snarled back at her, looking like he was about to lunge across the small space at her to claim cuddle privileges. 

“Oi, break it up you two, or I will kick you both out of here. Gods, Jaskier, it’s like your bloody catnip or something,” Vesemir grouched. “You can pass him around later if you’re that desperate, but leave the boy alone and let him sing.” 

The two subsided, Yennefer making a point of not relinquishing her contact with the bard. The heated gaze from across the fort was heavy on Jaskier’s skin the whole time. He refused to check what emotion lurked in those eyes at the ridiculous posturing. 

“Here, wet your whistle for a moment, Jaskier, before this lot make you sing yourself hoarse.” Vesemir handed him a rather full cup of whatever homebrew he had found in the cellar before passing glasses around to the other adults. Ciri pouted when she received a cup of apple juice but was wise enough not to protest when Vesemir shot her a warning glare. 

“Sweet Melitele, what the hell is this stuff,” Jaskier coughed as he took a rather overenthusiastic gulp. It burned like fire and had his gasping for air. The witchers laughed outright at him, Yennefer taking a delicate sniff of her own cup before knocking it back in one go. 

She smiled at him smugly. “If you can’t handle your liquor, Jaskier, maybe you should be drinking juice with Ciri.” 

Jaskier glared back at her before determinedly taking another swig of the drink, his eyes watering at the burn. “My throat is a delicate instrument, Yennefer, forgive me if I don’t want to completely ruin it.”

“I’m sure you’ve told many people that excuse, Jaskier, how many times has it worked on your lovers?” Lambert teased with a wink.   
  
Geralt clapped his hands over Ciri’s ears before glaring at his brother. “There are children present, Lambert, they don’t want to hear your filth.” Ciri slapped at his hands, protesting loudly. 

“My apologies. I forgot you were as pure as the driven snow,” Lambert fired back. Vesemir turned a warning glare on him and Lambert subsided with a shrug. “Can’t even make a bloody joke in this place. I didn’t realise the bloody keep was turning into a temple.”

Jaskier smacked at Lambert’s arm. “How dare you imply I’m not a generous lover. I will have you know that there is not a man or woman in the Continent that would give a negative review of the way I use my instrument.” He waggled his eyebrows at the witcher lasciviously, grinning at the groans his comment raised. 

“Minds out of the gutter boys, there are ladies present,” Vesemir grunted, even as his eyes danced with amusement. 

“Are you saying you don’t want to hear all about my exploits then, I’m sure I have some stories that could make even you blush. Hell, I don’t even need to include anyone here in them to make them exciting,” Yennefer snarked. She raised an eyebrow at Vesemir’s shocked expression. “I suppose I can restrain myself then, and someone else can share a story then. I am sure that Ciri would love to hear about your most exciting hunt, Vesemir.” 

The elder witcher smiled to himself before beginning his story. He gave a masterful performance, keeping them all spellbound for several hours and somehow managing to continuously fill their cups as he talked without them noticing. By the time he finished, Ciri was wide eyed with wonder and the others were well on the way to having horrific headaches in the morning. 

“I want to be a witcher when I grow up and save people from all the monsters and evil people in the world,” Ciri enthused. She didn’t see the world weary look the three younger witchers shared, too busy dreaming of her future adventures. 

“You will find your own way to help people and have adventures, my little lion cub,” Jaskier said. He couldn’t fail to notice the way Geralt was clutching her closer to his chest, as if he could save her from the fate she thought she wanted. “Now, how about I see if I can follow that with another story, hmm? Something a bit less ... violent. How about the story of Ettariel?” Ciri clapped at the suggestion so Jaskier settled himself back in between Yennefer and Lambert, having leant on them more and more as he drank, and started to strum on his lute as he sang. It gave him a great opportunity to observe the others as they listened to him. Eskel and Vesemir both listened with their eyes closed, fingers tapping along to the music. Lambert and Yennefer had both snuggled up as close to him as possible without being in the way of his playing, the alcohol making them slightly sleepy as they rested most of their weight onto him. Ciri was also falling asleep where she was snuggled up against Geralt, a blanket tucked around her as she smiled sleepily at his song. 

By the time he had finished singing, Ciri was snoring gently. He smiled softly at her before turning to the others. “Another round?” he asked quietly. 

Vesemir smiled and started refilling cups. “You have a stunning voice, Jaskier. It truly is a privilege to listen to you sing.” The other’s made agreeing noises, apart from Geralt who just stared intently at the bard.

“Thank you, Vesemir. That means a lot to me, coming from you.” 

Lambert patted drunkenly at Jaskier's hair as the bard moved to stash his lute somewhere it would not get damaged during the night if someone rolled over. “You’re so talented and pretty. Gonna have to fight people off of you on the Path next season. Coz you’re our bard now, you hear?” He turned and licked at Jaskier’s arm. “No one else can have you now.”

“He’s mine too,” Yennefer slurred, licking at his other arm while also trying to glare at Lambert. Jaskier drunkenly tried to shake them off while Eskel laughed at him. 

“Stop it, you two. I’m sleeping with Eskel tonight.” With that, he crawled out of their grasp and into Eskel’s lap. The other witcher grinned triumphantly, stroking at his hair smugly. The other’s whinged a bit, but then snuggled up close to the other witcher to try and get some contact with them all. Vesemir watched on contentedly, curling up in the entrance to the pillow fort as if he was ready to defend them at any moment before starting to doze off. 

Jaskier turned to see Geralt watching the four of them with cautious eyes. He reached out slowly towards the white haired witcher, ignoring the way the other man flinched at his movement. “Come here, big guy. At least for tonight, we can all be part of this together. Bring our girl here and join us.” 

Geralt stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before moving stiffly, snuggling Ciri into the pile of bodies carefully before stretching himself out alongside her so that she was bracketed by them. Jaskier let a hand drop onto the witcher's arm, anchoring him into their group. “Stop thinking, we can deal with it all tomorrow. For tonight, just enjoy the snuggles and sleep. You’re safe with us.” 

Geralt looked at him with those beautiful glowing eyes before the tension in his body eased and he melted into a puddle against them all with a small rumble. Jaskier traced patterns into his arm, smiling softly to himself as he watched Geralt’s eyes slowly drift closed. To his amusement, a rumbling purr started up in the four witchers around him. He could feel the satisfaction and trust heavy in the air around him. Jaskier let himself drift off to sleep, happy in the knowledge that his family felt so secure and content in his company. 


	40. I'll darn you back together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the slumber party.

Jaskier groaned as he woke up, his head pounding in agony. He didn’t want to open his eyes, he was comfortably snuggled in against something warm and was quite happy to stay where he was forever and ever, thank you very much. If he was lucky, someone would even bring him some food and feed him while he just kept dozing here. 

One of the pillows under him moved, a warm arm pulling him closer into the body he was lying against. He took a quick sniff of the air, trying to figure out which of his wolves or kittens were cuddling him so ardently. From the strength and size of the arm he was expecting the spice of Lambert or the earthy tones of Eskel, hell, even the rocky safety of Vesemir, but instead he found the metallic tang of Geralt surrounding him, mixed with a warm, sleepy, contented smell he did not recognise. 

He panicked, body going rigid for a moment before he forced himself to relax as Geralt murmured something and dug his fingers into his side to hold him tighter. How the hell was he going to get out of this one? If the witcher woke up to find that Jaskier had somehow snuggled up to him in the middle of the night, the bard was likely to lose his head. Shit, why the hell hadn’t the others stopped him, they all knew how affectionate he was when he drank and should have known better than to let him go cuddling up to the white haired man. 

Jaskier cracked open his eyes to take stock of his situation. There was no one else left in the pillow fort, the light streaming into the room suggesting that they had overslept and the others had gone off to start their days. Geralt was peacefully asleep, his face relaxed as it only ever was in sleep. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of his face, feel the way he let the worries and stresses he always carried slipped away and left him at peace, but he wasn’t ready to be killed just yet. 

He looked down to see where Geralt had pinned the bard to his chest with one arm. There was no easy way for him to weasel his way out. He looked around the room as if help would arrive from somewhere. He didn’t want to call out in case he woke the witcher, but how the hell was he meant to get himself free on his own? He groaned quietly, flopping back in resignation for a moment. He debated with himself about just going back to sleep and letting the witcher do what he wanted when he woke up, but there was no way he was falling back asleep with the idea that Geralt would most likely take his head off when he woke. 

He started wriggling, trying to see if he could loosen the death grip Geralt had around his waist. He froze again when his movements only caused the witcher to tighten his grip and certain parts of Geralt seemed to wake up more than others. Fuck. If he was dead before, now Geralt would make it painful after he realised that the bard had been rubbing himself all over him. 

In a fit of desperation, he grabbed hold of the arm and tried to heave it off of him. Geralt rumbled in confusion but loosened his grip enough for Jaskier to slip out of his hold and replace his body with a cushion for the other man to hold. He watched the witcher curl up around the pillow, making soft noises as he snuggled into it like the puppy he was deep down with a warm feeling in his chest before he slunk out of the pillow fort. Once he was able to get back to his feet, Jaskier bolted down to the hot springs. He needed a soak to process all that had happened, to find a way to box it up and put it somewhere in his mind where he wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

He had hidden some nice smelling oils and herbs down here recently, ones that he and Yennefer had collected during his winter in Vengerburg and she had brought with her. He found one particularly soothing scent, something he hoped would also help to hide the scent of the witcher he could smell on his skin, and added it to his favourite pool before stipping and jumping in. 

He quickly submerged himself, curling up into a ball at the bottom to think for a moment. He wasn’t quite trusting enough to take out his earring, not after Vesemir had surprised him last time, so he could only rest in the comforting embrace of the water for a few moments before he had to come back up for air. He lounged in the corner, leaving only his eyes and nose above the water so that the rest of him was in the warmth of the water. 

Waking up the way he had had been a special kind of torture. A few years ago, it would have made him unimaginably happy to wake up in the embrace of the witcher. Now all it left was another gaping wound in his chest at the thought that he would never have what he so desperately wanted. He had to admit it to himself, not that he would ever dare to say it out loud, he was in love with the witcher and had been for years. His heart had been broken when Geralt rejected him on that mountain top and he had no idea how he would ever recover. 

He ignored the tears streaming down his face, they would just wash away in the water anyway. He would have to content himself with the knowledge that he had friends and a sister who loved him. He had people he could devote his life to caring for and trust to have his back. He would survive, no matter how much the aching, twisting feeling in his heart told him that he would die without the witcher’s affections. 

He swore softly to himself. What good was heartbreak when it hurt too gods damned much to turn into a good song. There was no way he would be singing about this feeling, it was far too private and painful to air before all the Continent. He would have to find a way to sing his happiest songs in the hope that they would cover up the gaping wound inside of him. He doubted it would work, but he had no real choice but to try. 

Jaskier shook his head. There was no point indulging in self pity. If he was doomed to be eternally miserable as the love of his life rejected him, then he would at least make sure that he was a useful shell of a man. He would make sure that Geralt had the life that he deserved, whether the witcher wanted his help or not. He would make sure that Ciri was safe and cared for (not that he wouldn’t already have done that because gods did he love his little cub) and that Geralt had a comfortable home to return to whenever he finished his season on the Path with friends and family who cared for him (and didn’t try to punish him for breaking the heart of one poor, insignificant bard) and that people were at least civil to him when he came to slay their monsters and whatever else he could think of that would make the witcher happy. It was a hell of a to-do list, but Jaskier would use all of his not-inconsiderable powers to make it happen. He was a famous, accomplished bard, as well as a fossegrim. There was nothing that was beyond him if he set his mind to it. 

Even if the witcher never apologised for the way that he shattered his heart into a million pieces, even if Geralt never returned even a fraction of the affection that Jaskier felt for him, he was determined to do what he could to make his love’s life as close to perfect as it could be. He knew that the others would be unimpressed with him if he told them of his plan, but they didn’t need to know. He would make sure that they were as happy and content as possible as well, that would work well with his plans to help Geralt. He would give his life purpose, make sure that he left a positive mark on this world rather than succumbing to the urge to run off into the woods and just live as a fossegrim in some isolated river where he could sing haunting laments to his heart’s content and wallow in his misery. 

There was no way he would let the legend of the great bard Jaskier fade away into obscurity like that. He would suck it up, cover up the gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be, and make people happy like he always did. As soon as he got out of this pool, he would be the happy, carefree bard that they all loved so much. He would make sure that none of them know how much every moment twisted the knife under his ribs that little bit more. 

He ducked back under the water again, soaking up the water and feeling it wipe away the tear tracks on his face. Then he stood and climbed out of the water, sniffing at the flowery scent that clung to his skin now as he dried himself briskly and dressed. There was a looking glass on top of one of the chests that looked as if it was usually used to shave with. He stared at his reflection, smiling winningly at himself and trying to disguise the pain in his eyes with more teeth, more cheeky humour, anything to mask it up. Once he was satisfied that his mask would hold up even under Yennefer’s intense scrutiny, he made his way out of the room, whistling a merry tune as he went. This would have to be the best performance of his life if he wanted to dupe four witchers, a sorceress, and whatever magical power Ciri was. He was more than up for the challenge. 


	41. I’m the paper cut that kills you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier goes to meet the others.

Jaskier waltzed out into the courtyard to watch his witchers train. He had heard the friendly insults and the clashing of swords ringing out through the clear morning air and followed the sounds to find all the others out enjoying the sunshine. Vesemir was watching Lambert and Eskel train, yelling suggestions at them as they fought, while Ciri and Yennefer were sitting to the side talking quietly. 

“Good morning, my early rising friends. How are we all feeling after last night?” Jaskier asked, mask firmly in place as he swaggered over to the women. Eskel and Lambert quickly dropped their swords, only pausing in their excitement to run over to him when Vesemir growled at them about taking care of their weapons properly. Once their weapons were back on the appropriate racks, they bounded over to him with matching teasing grins. 

“So, how were your morning snuggles then Jaskier? You looked so comfortable, we couldn’t bear to wake you,” Eskel teased, ruffling the bard’s hair affectionately. 

Jaskier fixed an even bigger smile onto his face, ready to shoot back a witty repartee when Lambert took a deep sniff and frowned at the bard. Eskel saw his expression and copied him before giving Jaskier the same expression. 

“Why do you smell like a stagnant pond?” Lambert asked. Yennefer took notice at that, standing to scrutinise Jaskier’s face from a closer angle. 

“Wow, thanks for that Lambert, I just had a bath so maybe your stupid ponds are going a bit funky. You might need to give them a good scrubbing out, the gods only know when they were last properly cleaned.” Jaskier kept his voice upbeat and teasing, trying to avoid Yennefer’s hands where she poked at his face. “Alright, just because you licked me last night when we were all a little bit inebriated it does not mean that you can poke me like a doll.” 

“No, you’re definitely clean, it’s not that. Instead of smelling like sunshine and clear rivers you smell icky. What happened?” Eskel had grabbed Jaskier’s arm to sniff at his skin directly while Lambert was scowling and looking back at the keep. 

“What the fuck did he do?” Lambert snarled. Yennefer’s eyes widened momentarily before she scowled as well. Vesemir slapped a hand to his face in resignation. If Jaskier hadn’t been so determined to act like nothing had happened he would have laughed at their reactions. 

“Okay, so have you all been back on the drink again this morning or something? You people are acting really strange right now.” Jaskier tried to pull away from them, his smile starting to hurt his cheeks now. 

“Cut the bullshit bard, the boys think you smell like sadness and you look like a lunatic. What did that idiot do? I will cut off his balls, you know I will.” Yennefer was almost spitting mad, looking as if she was a moment away from making good on her threats. How the hell was he meant to diffuse this situation? 

“Nothing is wrong, you people are overreacting, yet again. Why the hell are you so stab happy, Yennefer. I thought you liked Geralt, you clearly liked him enough to fuck him every time you saw him over the last few years.”He regretted it as soon as he said it, all his anger at the situation coming out in one nasty torrent at one of the few people who stood by him. He slapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the last word fell from his lips, muttering apologies behind his fingers. 

“You are lucky that the boys said you were hurting,” Yennefer said in a deadly quiet tone. He could feel the power emanating off of her. “Otherwise they would be looking for a new bard to sing their stories. Now stop being an idiot and tell us why you are so upset. You were perfectly content in Geralt’s arms when we left you, so what happened between then and now to have you stinking of your own misery?”

Jaskier looked desperately around the courtyard, trying to find some way to escape the inquisition he somehow found himself in. 

“Either you start talking now, boy, or we go and find some of the potions I have tucked away that will loosen your tongue,” Vesemir said, a concerned look on his face. “You are among friends, there is no call for you to be bottling it all up until it festers like my idiot pups tend to do.”

Jaskier turned pleading eyes on the witchers in a bid for help, but they ignored him, Eskel turning to Ciri to send her inside to go and check on Geralt in a clear bid to keep her out of the conversation. Ciri whined and stomped her feet but stormed off towards the keep, his displeasure clear in the stiff set of her spine. 

“Let’s hear it then,” Lambert said, clearly tensed for a fight. 

Jaskier sighed in resignation. “Honestly, it’s nothing. I just thought about a few things this morning and decided that it’s pointless wasting my time on things that will never happen and now I’m fine, happier than ever.” 

Yennefer looked at him accusingly. “And what’s the rest of the story? You’re holding something back, Jaskier.” 

“Yennefer, I’m fine,” he whined. She glared at him until he continued talking. “I was just surprised by the wakeup call this morning and then I realised that there is no point making myself miserable with dreams of what could have happened when I know they will never come true, so I decided that I would spend my time more practically, make sure that the people that I care about are happy.”

“Oh, for fucks sake. You self sacrificing idiot,” Yennefer hissed, covering her eyes with a hand. “I cannot even deal with your levels of idiocy. Lambert, Eskel, sort him out please, for the love of all that is good. Vesemir, please tell me you have some Toussaint Red around here somewhere. You are driving me to drink, Jaskier, I hope you are happy.”

“Oh, like you weren’t drinking well before you met me, missy,” Jaskier fired back. “I’m not stupid, I’m just putting things into perspective for myself.”

Yennefer snarled at him before exchanging quick looks with each of the witchers. When they made approving faces back at her, she spun around, grabbed Jaskier’s face in her hands and stared deep into his eyes. He could see a violet flame flickering in the depths of her eyes, entrancing him so that all he could see was purple. “It’s exactly as bad as I thought. The fucking idiot finally realised he loved Geralt and decided that means he has to devote his life to making the pillock happy rather than ever trying to be happy himself. Vesemir, I feel like you would be best suited to handling this. The puppies and I are more likely to smack someone upside the head rather than fix anything here.” She let go of Jaskier, leaving him blinking stupidly as all the colours of the world rushed back in. 

“Hey, mind reading is cheating!” he whined. He must have looked pathetic, because she patted him briskly under the chin before grabbing the hands of the two witchers who looked most uncomfortable with the emotions in the air. 

“Come on, let’s give them some privacy to talk. You can show me the best places in this keep to day drink.” The boys looked at Vesemir as if for permission and once he nodded they led Yennefer off towards one of the towers. 

“Jaskier, my boy, let’s go and sit down.” Vesemir said gently, taking Jaskier by the elbow. 

Jaskier followed along like a lost puppy, all the emotions exhausting him and bringing back his raging headache. He sat and looked forlornly at his feet. “ I don’t understand why everyone is so mad. I know that I’m not who or what Geralt wants, I’m not deluding myself when he has made his feelings so clear. If I cannot have that kind of love in my life, then I will at least make sure that all of you feel loved and happy, especially Geralt. It breaks my heart seeing the way he has become so wary in the one place left to him with the others threatening him if he so much as looks at me. All I want is for him to be happy, even if that means I can never be.” 

“Little songbird, you really have the largest heart I have ever seen.” Vesemir said in a quiet, steady tone. He could feel the witcher sitting close to him, the heat of his body comforting even as Jaskier held himself rigid. “They aren’t mad at you, they are scared for you. Surely you can see how this path you have chosen will rip all of the joy out of you. You already stink of your misery, even under the smell of Geralt and contentment that you haven’t quite washed off, imagine for a moment just how much it will hurt those who love you to have the smell get worse and worse as you break yourself trying to make others happy at your own expense. You deserve happiness, my boy, and if Geralt is fool enough to pass up the love of such a big heart, then he is the one who is undeserving.” 

Jaskier turned to meet Vesemir’s eyes. “Everyone always leaves me. There must be something wrong with me, some reason they always turn on me. My parents in Lettenhove, my birth father, all the other bards at the college, Geralt, even the people I sleep with on the road. I am only useful as a novelty, a diversion with pretty songs and tales to share. Once people see the real me, they always leave. If I can just focus on making everyone happy, maybe then they won’t leave me. I don’t know what I would do if everyone leaves me again.” Jaskier was sobbing by the end of this, his words twisted up in his tears. 

Vesemir sighed and pulled the smaller man to him, holding him tight and rocking him like a small child. “You are such a bright light in all of our lives. I have only known you a few weeks, little songbird, and already I love you as if you were one of my pups. You are the bravest, kindest, most compassionate soul I have had the pleasure of meeting, and I know Eskel, Lambert, Ciri, and Yennefer all love you just as much. You were meant for greater things than that little town, Jaskier, you were meant to be loved by witchers and sorceresses and princesses. We will never leave you behind, because we all know how precious you are and how valuable it is to have someone love you unconditionally the way you do.” 

Jaskier cuddled closer to the older man’s chest, a fresh wave of tears shaking his body at the kind words. As much as he wanted to believe Vesemir, to trust the rocky certainly of his scent and his voice, a small voice in the back of his head kept telling him that this was all just a trick and soon he would be alone as usual. Jaskier tried to drown it out with the warmth of Vesemir’s embrace, with the safe feeling of being held like a child under a thunderstorm. 

“Jaskier?” came a voice from the courtyard. 


	42. Oh dear god, dear heart, don’t cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt have a talk.

Jaskier let out a squeak at hearing Geralt’s voice come from behind him and buried himself into Vesemir’s chest as if he could disappear there and never be seen again. Trust his luck to have the very person who had caused all of his tears and heartache walk in on him at his absolute low point. 

“Geralt, my lad. What brings you out here?” Vesemir asked, his hands pulling Jaskier tighter in against him. The bard shook a bit as his last few tears trickled down his face, cursing every god out there that had let him come to this point. He was meant to be the famous, happy go lucky bard Jaskier the great, not some crying wreck of a man. 

Geralt hummed awkwardly. “I woke up and everyone was gone. All I could smell was Jaskier, so he must have been the last up.” Jaskier dared to peek out at the man and abruptly buried his face back into Vesemir when he saw Geralt’s lightly pink cheeks at his admission. 

“Right, right, so you thought the best way to clear that up would be to come charging out here and then eavesdrop on a private conversation, hmm? Gods above, anyone would think you lot were raised by real wolves, but I suppose we did our best with what we had. Doesn't help that you are completely oblivious.” Vesemir’s chuckle rumbled against Jaskier’s face so that he whimpered and burrowed back against him. 

“What, I, um, I...” Geralt muttered. He shuffled his feet in the dirt and stared at the back of the smaller man. “Jaskier, are you alright?” 

Vesemir chuckled again as the bard made another high pitched noise and tried to hide himself in the older witcher while rubbing his face against the man’s cuirass to try and get rid of the tear tracks running down his face. “I don’t think our little songbird is wanting to talk to you, Geralt. However, I have had enough of dealing with the ridiculous tension that you two have going, so you are going to sit down right here next to us and the two of you are going to sort out your issues here and now. That way, I can enjoy the rest of my winter without watching the pair of you mope about the bloody keep like a pair of bloody wraiths.” 

Jaskier shook his head in negation even as he felt the white haired man sit beside them instinctively at the order in the older man’s voice and fel Vesemir pry his head away from his chest. “No,” he moaned piteously, trying to get the older witcher to leave him to his self pity. 

Vesemir managed to pry him far enough away that he could stare down into cerulean eyes still flooded with tears. “Jaskier, you are going to talk with Geralt about all of this right now. Either you can do it yourself, or I can tell him all about the little chats that we have been having for you.” Jaskier sighed dramatically before pulling himself out of Vesemir’s arms and facing the white haired witcher, his face glowing with his embarrassment. 

“Are you alright, Jaskier?” Geralt repeated quietly, staring intently at the bard. 

Jaskier nodded quickly. “Of course I am fine, I just, um, I thought about a new song I could write and it was just so tragic that I started crying that’s all.” There were twin growls from the witchers as they eyed Jaskier in displeasure at the lie. “Fine, fine, no I am not currently in the happiest of moods, but it is nothing for either of you to concern yourselves with as it will pass momentarily. I would hate to put a damper on the limited amount of time you both have to enjoy with your family due to my little problems.”

Geralt snarled in anger even before Vesemir could reproach the bard for his self-sacrificing speech. “If something is bothering you, Jaskier, we will fix it. You should know by now that all witchers are in the habit of fixing people’s problems, why wouldn’t we do the same for you?” 

“Wow, Geralt, what a lovely offer. I wonder why I don’t come to you with all my problems, hm? Could it be because you make it sound like just one more unpleasant task among all the others you do to keep people safe? Or maybe it’s because you’ve already made it very clear to me that you don’t want to deal with my  _ shit _ as you referred to it. Or could it even be the fact that you are the very reason that I am currently bawling my eyes out like a bloody idiot? I fucking wonder, Geralt, I really do!” Jaskier exploded angrily, all of the hurt he felt building inside him unleashing in one torrent that left him panting for breath. 

He fought the impulse to just pull his earring out and let his magic fix the problem for him by convincing them all to forget this little conversation ever happened, but he wasn’t as careless with mind magics as Yennefer. He knew that messing with someone’s memories was something even the sorceress would pause to think about, even if she was far too happy slipping into his mind anytime she was too impatient or curious to get him to verbalise his thoughts. 

Geralt held his gaze for a moment, golden fire burning into the blue depths of Jaskier’s eyes. He could almost see the witcher processing his words, feel the effort it took him to remain calm and quiet while he thought this through rather than firing back with something equally savage. The presence of the older witcher was clearly a calming influence on him and one that Jaskier would have to take advantage of more often. 

“Why am I the reason you were crying? You were worried about people leaving you, but then shouldn’t you be more concerned with Yenenfer, Eskel and Lambert? They are the ones that you ... care for so deeply.” Geralt spoke slowly and hesitantly, as if he was trying to piece it all together as he said it. He ignored the way Vesemir sighed in disbelief at their idiocy, focusing all of his senses on the slight man in front of him. 

Jaskier sighed in resignation. There was nothing for it but to be honest with the man. Well, honest enough, there was no way he was exposing all of his heart just to have it crushed into a million tiny pieces  _ again _ . “Of course I worry about them leaving me. I worry all the time that they will get fed up with my dramatics and my constant chattering and decide that life was easier before they met me. But they aren’t the ones who have already abandoned me, they aren’t the ones who told me that I was the reason for everything bad that happened in their lives, Geralt. You really hurt me that day, I don’t think you realise just how much what you said hurt.” 

Geralt’s eyes widened at his words. “I was mad at the situation Jaskier, not at you. Besides, you were better off without me. You didn’t hear the way that people were starting to talk about you, as if you weren’t human anymore just because you associated with me. There was no way I was letting it get to the point where they started chasing you out of town right alongside me, so I said what I thought would convince you that you were better off traveling alone.” Geralt looked so earnest, so trusting as he spoke, that Jaskier’s heart felt like it was bleeding just for him. Gods damn it all, why did the man have to be so beautiful and so kind beneath his tough exterior. It wasn’t fair that he could melt all of Jaskier’s defenses with just a few words. 

“That should have been my choice, Geralt, but you took it from me. You treated me like a child who can’t even be trusted to know his own mind. And it’s not like your words saved me from any great fate. I have been travelling with witchers for years and it hasn’t done me any harm, well, none permanent anyway. I should be the one who makes the choices about what risks I take, not you.” 

“I know, Jaskier, I know,” Geralt sighed. “I regretted it as soon as I said it, but then I couldn’t find you again to apologise and by the time I had managed to find out where you were, I had heard you were travelling with Lambert and I figured you were happier with him. I never should have said that you made my life worse, hell, you were the only thing in it for a while that didn’t reek of blood and shit and I wasn’t willing to allow that to happen to you. Is there any way you can forgive me?” Geralt looked so beseechingly up at him that Jaskier felt the last of his caution melt away. He could manage being friends with Geralt again, he would just have to ensure that he kept his stupid heart out of it and they would all be fine. 

“Of course, Geralt. You were the first real friend I ever had. I am willing to be friends again, as long as you promise never to pull another stunt like you did on the mountain top again.” At Geralt’s earnest nod he clapped him on the shoulder amicably before turning to Vesemir. “See, all better now. Are we allowed to go inside or do we still need supervision?” he teased. 

Vesemir huffed at him. “If you were one of my pups, my boy, you would be running laps for your cheek. You two get your asses inside. I don’t want to hear any more drama from the two of you, you hear me?” Both men nodded before flashing each other hesitant smiles (and Jaskier was taking the slight twitch of Geralt’s lips as a smile thank you very much) and heading into the keep together.


	43. He holds her close just to keep the world at bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer and Jaskier have a chat.

Jaskier hadn't been stupid enough to think that everything would change after one little conversation. Geralt didn't know he wasn't human for one thing and it wasn't like one conversation would make all the hurt he had felt go away, especially when Geralt seemed so fixated on the idea of them being friends (and that word wasn't a stab to the heart every time he thought of it at all). 

The others had stared warily at them when they came back into the keep, looking between Geralt and Jaskier as if they were waiting for the two of them to launch into a screaming fight. Jaskier poked his tongue out at them in return. "What are you all staring for? There's not going to be a big show anymore, Geralt and I had a little chat."

Yennefer and the boys looked at them both suspiciously while Ciri cheered and flung herself at them. “I’m so happy, you are two of my favourite people in the world. I hate it when you fight, it’s like when Grandmother and Eist would fight and everyone would be so awkward and sad about it all.” She beamed up at them, pulling them together so that she could fit her arms around them both at once. Jaskier and Geralt looked at each other, both of their faces colouring pink. 

“Alright, this is too wierd,” Yennefer interrupted. She was glaring at the two of them and brushed aside Ciri’s confused expression. “Jaskier, you are coming with me and Ciri for a minute. Boys, I’m trusting you to get the information we need here.” The three of them shared a look that Jaskier couldn’t quite decipher before Yennefer was tugging his arm and Ciri’s to lead them up towards their room. He heard Geralt ask something in confusion as he was pulled down the hallway and turned to wave goodbye to him. The last thing he saw before he was pulled around a corner was Geralt staring back at him, emotion swirling in his golden eyes. 

Yennefer didn't stop until she had the three of them situated on the bed, pulling blankets and pillows around them so that they could bundle up in response to the chill breeze that was infiltrating the keep more days then not now as winter set in. “What happened down there? I left you with Vesemir to convince you not to be a self-sacrificing idiot and then you come back looking awfully chummy with the whole reason you were bawling your eyes out like some idiot in one of your ballads. Did Vesemir break you and now you have no memories of everything that happened before? Or is this part of your stupid plan, becuase you know that I will beat your ass if you continue to be an idiot.” 

Jaskier glared at the sudden inquisition while Ciri cuddled up against him and started tracing the calluses on his fingers to amuse herself. He knew she was just playing the part of the distracted little child, she was far sneakier than she liked to let on. “Why don’t you just go looking through my mind again, Yenna, since you did that even after I have talked to you about this before!” he shot back. 

“I’m sorry, was I meant to leave you be when you had the boys that worried about you? We did talk about this before, and you agreed that I can snoop if I feel like there is a legitimate danger to you or others. How was this not one of those situations? Please tell me you aren’t stupid enough to think that your little scheme was a rational response and would end in anything other than you getting hurt, emotionally or physically.” 

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at her and looked down at Ciri, knowing that she would take that as agreement. She wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t have to admit it to her and let her gloat over it all.

“So spill, what happened?” Yennefer asked again. Ciri glanced slyly up at him through her eyelashes and he pretended not to notice. It wouldn’t hurt her to practice her eavesdropping skills, hell, he used his as often as he could so the experience would be good for her. And it wasn’t like anything he was about to say was sensitive information, he was sure she would find out anyway so it might as well be now.

“Vesemir and I had a talk about my plan as you call it, and he convinced me that it would not be in my best interest. I may have gotten a tiny bit emotional about it all,” he frowned at Yennefer’s sarcastic gasp at that and the little giggle Ciri let out at her, “and Geralt may have overheard me talking about the way ... more often than not I am reminded that I am a bit much for some people and their lives would be better without me in it.” He waved away the instant protests that both women started to give. “I know, I know, but I can’t help the way I feel. Anyway, both Geralt and Vesemir were rather insistent that I was not a burden at all and then Vesemir decided it would be better for us to have a talk and get things out in the open. I may have lashed out a little and said some things that I probably shouldn’t have about how I felt after our last encounter, but he apologised, Yenna. He said that he was worried about me and that he didn’t want me to get hurt just because I was associated with him, so he tried to chase me off.” 

Yennefer snorted something derogatory under her breath at that which had Ciri laughing again. Gods above, she was such a bad influence on the princess, she was going to end up just as feral as all of them. 

“Long story short, we cleared the air a bit and decided that we would be friends. It should make this winter a lot more bearable for all of us, so I expect you all to be nice to Geralt now, no being rude to him on my behalf.” He growled the last bit down at Ciri, tickling her stomach mercilessly in mock threat. Her peals of laughter were a good reason to pretend he didn’t see the concerned look on Yennefer’s face, clearly she would need more convincing to let bygones be bygones. 

“Right,” Yennefer drawled,”so I’m supposed to pretend that you are completely fine with just being friends with the man you love and who broke your heart into lots of tiny pieces and forgive all of the shit that he put you through. Pull the other one, Jaskier.” Jaskier glared at her, annoyed that she would so casually reveal his feelings for the witcher in front of the man’s adopted daughter. 

“Oh, Jaskier, do you really truly love him? How did I not guess, you two are super rude to each other but you look at each other like Eist and Grandmother always did when they had been away from each other for too long. Oh, that’s so romantic.” Ciri flopped back onto the bed, clearly overcome with her daydreams of Jaskier and Geralt as a couple. “You can be together forever and look after me and teach me to be a witcher but also to be the best singer in the Continent and then Yennefer can teach me magic too and we can all be one big happy family and this is the best winter EVER!” 

Jaskier sighed and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “No, Ciri, you can’t go around making these plans. I’ll always love you and be part of your life, but you are Geralt’s Child Surprise and Geralt doesn't care for me in that way. I will teach you to be the best singer in the Continent, no problems, but Geralt and I will never be anything more than friends and I don’t want you making him feel bad for that. That wouldn’t be fair to Geralt, you hear me. It wouldn’t be right to try and force him to pretend to love me and make himself happy just so that we can be happy.” 

Ciri looked up at Jaskier’s face and reached up to brush a tear from his cheek. “But Jaskier, he loves you too, he has to. You are the nicest person to him and he’s always worried about what happened to you. He used to tell me stories about the friend he used to travel with and say he was worried about what had happened to him. It took me a while to realise he meant you.” 

“Ciri,” Jaskier said urgently. He had to make her understand before she ruined the fragile peace he had won. He could feel Yennefer watching him assessingly, but didn’t have the energy to try and put on a mask for her as well as convince Ciri. “He was only worried because he felt guilty about the way we parted that time. It isn’t love, it was just Geralt being the hero we all know he is. He can’t help but worry about people, and that’s why we have to do our best to give him the love he needs, in whatever form he needs, understand? Because the world is so mean to him when all he does is try to help people, so we have to be nice and help him too.” 

Ciri’s bright green eyes welled up with tears in response to the emotion in Jaskier’s voice. “Ok, Jaskier. I won’t tell, I promise. But I love you too and I don’t want you to be sad anymore.” 

“Oh, darling, I can’t be sad. Not when I have my darling little lion cub here to protect me.” Jaskier smiled at her through his tears. “Now, I’m tired after all of these tears and conversations. How about we be real lions and have a little cat nap, hm? Can I get a cuddle from my two favourite girls?” 

Ciri immediately pulled him down so that she could snuggle up into his chest, burrowing against his warmth like a little limpet and sighing contentedly. Yennefer watched them for a moment, not moving when Jaskier reached out a hand to her. “We will be talking about this again. I don’t believe that you accepted his apology as easy as all that.” 

“I know, Yenna, I know. I don’t forgive him for it all, not really, but I can’t keep going like this. I need some peace, and this seems like the best way to get it.” 

Yennefer stared deep into his eyes for a moment, concern clear in her violet eyes, before she allowed herself to be pulled down to surround Ciri. The young girl murmured happily, pulling Yennefer’s arms over her so that the three of them were touching. 

“I love you both so much.” Ciri said sleepily.

“I know, my little cub. I love you both too.” Jaskier said. 

Yennefer took a deep breath and released it shakily. “I love you both too.”

Jaskier felt his chest swell with warmth. He would survive anything, as long as he had his two girls by his side. 


	44. Place your smile in mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group have dinner.

Jaskier woke up to the sound of Ciri giggling and Lambert trying to hush her through his own laughter. He lifted his head sleepily from where it was buried against Yennefer and looked at them in confusion. They had both pulled their hands back far too quickly as he moved and were now giving him their most innocent smiles. 

"Wha did ya do?" he slurred, brain still not functioning properly.

Lambert and Ciri grinned at each other. "How rude, Jaskier! Lambert and I were just waking you up for dinner so Vesemir doesn't tell you off for skipping meals. I'm so sad you don't trust us," Ciri pouted at him, her eyes alight with mischief. 

Jaskier groaned and flopped back against Yennefer. "Ugh, do we have to get up? I just want to nap." Yennefer made a muffled noise of assent from where her face was buried in the pillows. 

"No, Vesemir said we are all having a family dinner, so you have to come down and be sociable." Ciri bounced onto the bed and clambered onto his back so that he let out a groan at the full weight of a thirteen year old girl using him as a seat. "Now let's goooo." 

Yennefer pulled herself out of bed and pushed her mass of black curls out of her face. "If you want him to get up, Ciri, you may have to move off of him." Ciri made another happy little noise and bounced off of him, throwing herself at Lambert instead. Jaskier sat up just to watch the witcher wince as the young girl collided with him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion but choosing to let it go for the moment. Yennefer tugged him out of the bed and then smirked at him. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” Jaskier asked in confusion. 

She grinned at him while the other two snickered. “No, no, we just need to get down to dinner. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble now you’ve finally started to behave yourself.” Jaskier shook his head in confusion but followed them downstairs, keeping an eye on the way Lambert moved stiffly as if he had bruises he was hiding beneath his shirt. What the hell had those boys been up to now?

As he came into the great hall he saw Geralt and Vesemir look at him in shock while Eskel burst out laughing. “That’s an amazing look on you, Jaskier,” Eskel said teasingly. Jaskier was too busy looking between him and Geralt, seeing Eskel’s black eye and Geralt's split lip.

“What the hell did you three do to each other? I thought you were talking, you barbarians. What the hell!” He quickly walked over to Eskel, tugging him down so that he could check on his eye better before instinctively doing the same to Geralt. He paused for a moment, a blush staining his cheeks at the close proximity as he brushed a finger over the cut to check how serious it was, before he forced himself to pull away and start tugging at Lambert’s shirt to see the severity of his bruising. 

“Alright, mother. Gods, you would think we never got hurt with the way you carry on. It’s fine, just a little roughhousing between friends, right Geralt?” Lambert said with a dangerous look towards Geralt as he pushed the bard away gently. Geralt hummed in agreement, meeting Lambert’s eyes steadily. 

“Besides, who decided you needed ribbons and braids today?” Eskel asked, trying to deflect the bard. It worked well, Jaskier patting at his hair and turning to glare at Ciri and Lambert. 

“Just because my hair is longer than usual doesn't mean it is your personal play toy. You have to ask before you start tying it up in knots, you heathens,” he scolded playfully. “At least tell me it looks good.” 

Vesemir chuckled at him. “We can clearly see which ones Ciri has done and where Lambert has helped. I don’t think any of my pups have ever plated hair in their lives.” 

Jaskier moaned in mock horror and sunk into his seat at the table. “Ciri, am I going to have to chop it all off now? Will you still love me if I have no hair?” 

Ciri giggled at him and skipped over to sit next to him at the table, quickly pulling ribbons out of the more messy plaits and starting again. “I’ll always love you, even if you look like one of the monsters Geralt kills.” 

Jaskier chuckled awkwardly at that, his eyes flashing to the four people in the room that knew of his less than human tendencies. “So, I was promised food. Was that a hoax to get me out of bed or am I actually getting fed?” He hoped his jovial tone didn’t sound as forced as he felt, but he did see Geralt flick him a strange look before he wandered off to the kitchen with Lambert, cuffing the other witcher over the head when he complained about his braiding skills not being appreciated. 

Ciri and Yennefer turned sharp eyes on Eskel as soon as the others were out of earshot. “So,” Yennefer asked impatiently, “how did your little chat go?” 

“Idiot is still clueless about just how bad the situation was, but he at least seems willing to stop actively trying to break our bard into a million tiny pieces, so I suppose it’s a start. We had a nice long talk about how some people actually remember the shit other people say and aren’t used to being called monsters all the time. Hopefully it’s enough for him to start making a change, but it seems like it’s going to be a long process. He also kept saying he knew Jaskier was way too pure and good for him and that’s why he was a huge asshole, so that should be fun to deal with.” Eskel reported back to the two girls like he was rattling off information from a contract, his tone matter of fact and serious. The two women nodded back at him, considering gleams in both of their eyes. 

Jaskier scowled at them all. “If you lot are done pretending I can’t hear you talking about me and trying to manage my life for me, I would appreciate a change in subject. I don’t need you interfering again, I already told you all to butt out of it.” Yennefer and Eskel both gave him pitying looks like he was some small child that didn’t know what was good for it while Ciri patted his head reassuringly while she fixed up his hair.

When she heard the two witcher’s returning with the food she quickly slipped from her seat and ran towards the door. As Geralt came into the room she threw herself at him in a hug, holding him tight around the middle while he instinctively balanced himself so that he didn’t drop the plate of roasted vegetables all over her. He stiffened strangely a moment after she hugged him. 

“Ciri, why do you have a knife pressed up against my kidneys?” he asked in a strangled voice. Vesemir was smiling to himself smugly from his position at the head of the table while the others were looking at them in shock. 

“I just wanted to practice. I have to be ready to stab anyone who is mean to any of my friends, don't I Geralt?” she asked pointedly, smiling up at him with a feral glint in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment before nodding and she bared her teeth in a grin before letting him go and skipping back to the table, a silver dagger gleaming in her hand. 

“Just where did you get that knife from, missy? I thought Eskel took your last one off of you,” Jaskier fussed as he pulled her into her seat again and tried to take the blade from her. 

She glared at him and tucked it back into a sheath in her sleeve. “He did, which is annoying because it was a nice knife. I had to spend hours trying to find a new one that felt as good in my hand, see I was listening when you were telling me all about how it should feel like an extension of me, Uncle Vesemir, and so I spent forever checking all of the daggers in the storage rooms and giving them a polish and sharpening them if I thought they might be good. Now I have lots hidden all over the place, so you can’t take them all away from me.” She poked her tongue out at them, clearly pleased with herself. Of course Geralt managed to end up with the most bloodthirsty princess in all of the Continent. 

  
  


Jaskier sighed and started helping himself to food, knowing from experience that the witchers were likely to devour everything within sight unless the other three quickly snagged their share of the food. “Your grandmother would be so proud of what a bloodthirsty little tyrant you are, miss Cirilla,” he said between mouthfuls. She pulled a face back at him, food shoved into her mouth with as much speed as she could manage. Only Yennefer was eating slowly, the only one using a knife and fork and maintaining a magical barrier around her food to keep thieving hands away. 

Geralt snickered quietly at their antics and Jaskier’s head shot up in surprise, his eyes widening at the almost smile on the witcher’s face. Geralt’s cheeks pinkened slightly at his appraisal and Jaskier ducked his head back to his plate shyly. 

“For the love of all that’s good, if we have to put up with you two mooning over each other all winter I might be asking Ciri to come after me with her knives,” Lambert complained loudly. Geralt almost spat his food out of his mouth and Jaskier turned his most ferocious glare on the witcher. 

“Shut up, Lambert. Like I don’t have to put up with you and your ego, it’s a wonder how you fit in the bed at nights,” Jaskier fired back. Geralt looked at him strangely at that comment, but Jaskier brushed it aside in favour of glaring at Lambert and daring him to say something else. 

“Once again, why is it the big children here who have no bloody table manners. I would apologise, Yennefer, for the state of this lot, but I can only take the blame for three of them,” Vesemir said longsufferingly, taking a long swig from his cup of vodka that had Jaskier wincing in sympathy. 

Yennefer smiled brightly back at him. “Not at all, Vesemir. There’s only so much even a gentleman like yourself can be expected to do with such uncouth pupils. I am afraid that they are beyond hope and we shall have to content ourselves with laughing at their boorishness, there is nothing else for it.” She also took a long drink from her glass of red wine, smirking like a cat let loose in a barn of mice. 

Vesemir bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “And why do I get the sense that you are just as much trouble as the rest of them, my lady?” 

Yennefer laughed. “You are as wise as you are rumoured to be, Grandmaster Witcher. It is such fun to have so many diversions at my disposal for the winter, I find myself appreciating your keep more and more.” 

Eskel sighed. “Don’t lump me in with these idiots. Dumbass one and two here are the main problem. If I have to put up with them arguing their way all through winter, I swear Vesemir, you might end up with two less pups to worry about.” The others all laughed at Lambert and Geralt’s insulted expressions. 

“Isn’t it so nice to be with such kind and caring people?” Jaskier joked. “Helps to keep one grounded and the ego in check.” 

Ciri poked him in the side with another knife that she had pulled from somewhere. “You have the biggest ego of all of us, Jaskier. We have to make sure you can fit through the doorways.” The other’s all burst into laughter at the bard’s expense. He met golden eyes across the table and smiled faintly. Gods, he loved these people. Why did that hurt so much?


	45. Just relax and come to bed with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group go to bed together.

They hadn’t stayed up too late that night, Ciri being tired from all the stabbing training as she was now calling it and the others all deciding that they had plenty of late nights ahead of them as winter deepend. Vesemir had warned that at times the snows got so heavy that they couldn’t leave the keep, so Jaskier was more than happy to save up all the late night drinking for an opportunity like that. 

Once the four of them had said their goodnights to Ciri, Geralt, and Vesemir, they reconvened in Jaskier’s (and now all of theirs) room to curl up on the bed. The two men had claimed the bard for the night, snuggling him in between them like a toy while Yennefer curled up at their feet and watched them with glowing violet eyes like the cat Jaskier called her. 

“What do you think, Yenna?” Eskel asked quietly. “Are we going to have to break Geralt’s nose for real this time or are we taking this as progress? I’m fairly sure Ciri is on our side, and with all the knives she has hidden about she should be able to do a fair amount of damage. She’s gotten pretty good with them as well, even throwing them she can hit a target nine times out of ten.” 

Jaskier squawked in annoyance and was about to say something when Lambert casually put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “The fucking idiot has no idea what he’s done, but he does seem to care so I suppose that’s something. He even got all growly over the idea that Eskel and I seem so familiar with the bard. I think someone thinks he’s missing out on naked fun times,” Lambert snickered. Jaskier scowled and bit at his hand until he pulled it away. 

“You only wish you were getting some of this, you cretin. You talk about me like I’m not even here and then think you’re getting hugs tonight, think again.” Jaskier went to clamber out of his position between the two but was pulled back in by both witchers. 

“Apologise, Lambert you asshole. Jaskier, he’s only joking like the dick he is. I want cuddles too,” Eskel whined. 

Jaskier collapsed back with a dramatic sigh. “Lambert, I hope you thank your brother every night for getting you out of all the shit you get into. You three can resume your dramatic late night plotting about my life, I’m too tired to deal with your drama. Just leave my nubile young body out of all your plans, you lechers.” 

Yennefer leered at him from her spot at the end of the bed. “Oh honey, but you know we would make it so good for you,” she simpered in a put on little voice. 

Jaskier shuddered. “Oh, sweet Melitele, never do that again. I think my cock just tried to crawl back up inside me. I don’t need images of crazy pre-friendship Yennefer trying to seduce me just as I go to bed, thank you very much. Now good night, you sex fiends.” With that he rolled over and snuggled down between the two witchers and was asleep in moments as their voices rumbled over him soothingly. 

* * *

There was a brisk knock at the door and the sound of someone sniffling quietly in the middle of the night. Jaskier blinked his eyes open blearily to see twin amber gazes almost glowing in the darkness, staring at the door without blinking. Yennefer was moving slowly around on the end of the bed and he saw her get up to open the door. 

Geralt and Ciri were standing in the doorway, the young girl clinging to Geralt’s leg and wiping at tearstained eyes. “Ciri had a bad dream and wanted to come and sleep with you,” Geralt said awkwardly. He kept looking at the way they were all entwined on the bed before ducking his gaze down to the floor and then stealing another look back at the bed. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Come and get settled on the bed, we all know no one can have bad dreams with Jaskier in the bed, don’t we?” Yennefer said soothingly, disentangling the girl from Geralt and leading her over to the bed. She pushed Lambert out of the way so that Ciri could take his place and cuddle into the bard’s chest, where she promptly buried her face. Lambert muttered something under his breath and shifted so that he was where Yennefer had been, clearly anticipating being used as her pillow now his spot was taken. 

Geralt make a harsh noise and shuffled his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning then, Ciri,” he said in a choked tone. The girl let out a wordless cry and clutched at Jaskier’s sleep shirt desperately.

“You can’t leave, you have to sleep with us too. Please Geralt,” she begged, her body shaking even as she kept her face pressed against Jaskier. 

Geralt sighed deeply, hesitating at the doorway. 

“Don’t worry, my little lion cub. Geralt will come and sleep right here next to you, won’t he?” Jaskier asked with a bite to his voice. The implications of his words caught up with him when he saw Geralt give a determined huff and move swiftly over to the bed, lying down on the other side of Ciri and meeting Jaskier’s embarrassed gaze over her head. 

“Um,” Geralt muttered awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable spot of the bed. 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Jaskier snapped tiredly before grabbing at the witcher and pulling him closer. Ciri shifted between them so that she was lying on top of both of their chests rather than the bed, pulling an arm from each of them around her like a blanket before placing a quick kiss on each of their cheeks and falling back asleep. Geralt was as stiff as a board next to him, his entire body rigid in shock. 

“Relax, no one in this bed is going to bite,” Jaskier said sarcastically. 

“Speak for yourself,” Lambert fired back from the bottom of the bed. The bard kicked at him gently, careful not to dislodge the sleeping princess and smirked when he heard Lambert swear. 

“So,” Geralt said quietly, “do you always all sleep in the same bed like this?” 

Jaskier felt his face go bright red and hated himself for being embarrassed at taking comfort in the presence of his friends. “Yes, we do. Why, do you have a problem with it?” he snapped back a bit too viciously. He felt Eskel trace a soothing pattern against his arm and nudged back at him in appreciation. 

“No, no problem,” Geralt assured him hastily. “Just, um, curious.” 

“Well then, mister curious cat, shut the fuck up and go to sleep before I curse your ass for saying something insensitive or keeping me from my beauty sleep,” Yennefer’s voice came from the end of the bed. He heard Lambert chuckle in support at her words and knew from past experience that the two of them probably both had their “I’m an asshole” grins on. 

“Alright, everyone can go to sleep and you can get back to sniping at each other and being rude assholes in the morning. We have a tired little princess here who needs some sleep,” Jaskier admonished, wondering when he became the voice of reason. 

“We know, Jaskier, and Ciri needs some sleep too,” Eskel said teasingly. Jaskier swore and smacked him on the arm for his cheek before meeting Geralt’s eyes again. The white haired witcher seemed to be drinking it all in silently, watching the easy way they all interacted like a starving man looking at a feast. 

Jaskier mouthed a quick goodnight to him before closing his eyes and letting the warm weight of the princess on top of him sink him down into sleep. He thought he imagined the hand pushing his hair out of his eyes and teh voice murmuring “goodnight” back to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is the shortest chapter ever. I am currently super exhausted and have a really sore eye (yay for contacts) but I wanted to make sure I put something up tonight so have this pile of fluff to make up for it.


	46. As we lie here in our bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier wakes up early in the morning.

Jaskier woke up in Geralt’s arms again and cursed his luck. He could feel Ciri wriggling in her spot perched on top of both of them, but he was more concerned about the way he was once again nestled up against the witcher’s chest and held in place by two ridiculously well muscled arms. That same comforting scent of metal was thick in his nostrils, smelling reassuringly of weapons and strength and making Jaskier just want to stay nice and safe where he was forever and ever. But no, he had a brain in his head and that brain was telling him that he needed to be careful, to keep his heart safe from the man who had broken it so well before. 

He sighed and started trying to think of how he could get out of the bed without waking everyone up. Geralt was holding him tight, Ciri was using him as a cushion, and Eskel was still pressed close up against his back. Hell, even Yennefer and Lambert seemed to be holding onto his legs in a desire to be part of the snuggle. He took a deep breath and smelt a rocky scent that had him shaking his head in resignation. Even Vesemir was in the room, most likely curled up by the door again in what seemed to be his default position when they had cuddle piles. 

It was adorable how they all gravitated together like this. He knew it was a low blow, but they were just like little wolf puppies, always wanting to cuddle up close together as a pack and sleep the cold away. He wondered if that was why they were the school of the wolf, but which came first, the wolfy behaviour or the name? And why was he posing paradoxes to himself first thing in the morning? Clearly pining away for the love of your life was bad for the brain, it was turning him into an idiot. Maybe he needed to find something else to keep him distracted from all the heartache and longing before he completely ruined his brain with all of this introspection. He would be no good as a bard if he had no brain with which to compose, although there were some who would argue (wrongly) that he had no brain to start with so there was that too. Why was he awake again? 

“Jaskier, I can hear you thinking from here. Shut up and sleep,” came Yennefer’s sleepy voice from the end of the bed. He felt more than heard Ciri laugh at him from her perch on top of him and Eskel poked him in the back to reinforce her point. 

“I’m not thinking too loudly, you stop making noise. You’re the one keeping everyone awake,” he protested. The others groaned, knowing what was coming. Geralt made a sleepy sound and pulled him tighter against him. 

“No talking. Sleep time,” the witcher muttered, patting at the back of his head clumsily. 

Jaskier tried not to preen at the attention. “I would happily go back to sleep but there is currently a witch in this bed who insists on being mean to me.” 

Geralt smacked/patted at his head more. “Sh, sleeping time.” 

Lambert (he assumed it was Lambert anyway) bit at his foot in annoyance. “Shut the fuck up. Some of us are trying to sleep here and you two keep jabbering away.” Eskel jabbed him in the back again, nonverbally expressing his annoyance as well.

“Right, well I can tell that everyone is in a lovely mood this morning. I would go and think noisily elsewhere, but apparently I am only good for being a human sized cuddling pillow, so I can’t get out of the bloody bed,” Jaskier said defensively. 

Ciri scrambled around on top of him, digging her elbows and her knees into him as she turned over so that she was staring blearily into his eyes and holding his face in both of her hands. “Jaskier, you’re not leaving the cuddle. Now go back to sleep.” 

Jaskier grumbled under his breath and wriggled his face in her hands, his own arms being pinned by Geralt’s. “Fine, fine, I’ll try and go back to sleep.” 

“Finally,” came sighs of relief from all around the room. He sniffed indignantly. He wasn’t being noisy as all until Yennefer chimed in, why was he the one getting told off. He kept grumbling away to himself in his mind until he felt another pat on the back of the head. 

“Go to sleep,” Geralt mumbled, his chest reverberating against Jaskier’s cheek with his words. Jaskier sighed and nuzzled against him, letting his mind talk itself back to sleep. 

* * *

When Jaskier woke up again, he was alone in the bed and his skin was getting that awful tight and dry feeling that meant he needed to go and let his inner fossegrim out for an extended period of time. He had been keeping it under control this winter with little stints in the hot springs, but he had the feeling he needed to spend at least an entire day in the water, especially if it was going to get harder and harder to find a minute to himself with winter worsening. 

He groaned and heaved himself out of bed. He didn’t bother changing out of his sleep clothes, shambling his way down to the hot springs without running into any of the others. He left his clothes strewn all over the floor and almost collapsed into the nearest pool, throwing his earring out and letting the water embrace him. He sighed as he sank into the warm depths, feeling any tension he had in his body melt away as the water wrapped around him comfortingly. 

He allowed himself to soak for a while, letting the water seep back into him and slowly dissipate the achy feeling in his skin and bones. He hated the way he felt without being in the water often enough, but he was also wary of being caught by either Ciri or Geralt. He knew that he would most likely have to tell them at some point, if only to prevent the argument that would most likely happen if they found out any other way, but he wanted to find the perfect moment and the perfect words. Unfortunately, the perfect words and moment would probably never happen, but a bard could dream, right? 

Jaskier panicked slightly when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, but a quick sniff of the air brought the scent of lilac and gooseberries drifting down the hall with the spice of Lambert following. He could hear them joking then, Lambert betting that they would find Jaskier in the baths and Yennefer agreeing with a laugh. They wandered into the room and Jaskier could hear Yennefer’s sniff of disgust when she saw his clothes scattered all over the floor.

“You’re a slob, Jaskier, a complete slob,” she teased, moving through the thick steam in the room to stand in front of the pool he was in. “Close your eyes for a moment, I’m coming in.”

Jaskier sighed and averted his gaze as she stripped and joined him in the pool. Lambert followed soon after, almost diving into the pool and splashing water everywhere. Jaskier giggled and waved his hand, the water changing direction midair to all splash back into the witcher’s face. Lambert spluttered indignantly at him while Yennefer laughed. 

“You lot seem to be in a better mood now,” Jaskier teased. He bared his serrated teeth in a smile at them both, playing with the water gently and forming small ribbons of water that danced lazily over the surface. 

Lambert waved a hand through his water, destroying one ribbon and grinning back when Jaskier smacked him with the next one. “Yes, well, some idiot was thinking so hard this morning we could practically smell the smoke. Honestly, Jaskier. It was just a cuddle, you do it with us all the time.” 

“I wasn’t worrying about that,” he protested, crossing his fingers behind his back. “I was merely thinking to myself about how adorable all my little puppies are, constantly wanting to snuggle up for the winter. Maybe we need to go and find them a good cave, Yenna.” Lambert snarled and jumped at him, the two of them wrestling playfully in the water while Yennefer sighed and started washing her hair, trying to hide her small smile behind the riot of curls her hair turned into in the morning if she didn’t spell it into order. 

“And why are you all scaly today, mister fish?” she asked once they settled back down. “I would have thought you would be being especially careful about it now, what with the fragile peace you have managed.” 

Jaskier scowled down at the water. “I was getting that awful itchy feeling back. One of the things I learnt from Tikhomir, if I let it get too bad I can end up desiccating. It sounds like a pretty awful thing, I wouldn’t die but would just be stuck in this awful painful stasis until I got wet again. So I am a little reluctant to push it too far. I’ve been keeping a lid on it a bit, so I think I need the majority of the day in here. It wouldn’t be as long if I had access to a clear, moving stream, but it’s freezing cold out here so I will make do with the springs and letting my magic out as much as possible. Now, would my adorable puppy and kitten like a small performance?” he asked with a flourish, conjuring a lute from the water. Lambert and Yennefer nodded eagerly, always happy to hear their friend perform when he was so relaxed and happy. 

Jaskier smiled and launched into a haunting melody that had been drifting around in his head. He got the feeling that he could tap into some kind of collective song catalogue that all fossegrims shared and that this song was one of them. It seemed to suit the steamy room anyway, his voice and the music pouring from his lute weaving together amongst the vapour and seeming to fill the room around them and create a little bubble of music. He was so focused on his music, so caught up in the song, that he did not hear the footsteps approaching, didn't notice anything until he heard a gasp and something dropping to the floor beside the spring. 


	47. I pray to god it's the kindest thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is caught in the hot springs.

Jaskier spun around to see who was standing over the hot spring but was quickly shoved under the water by both Yennefer and Lambert almost jumping on top of him in a last minute attempt to hide him. He spluttered, trying to listen through the water and then panicking when he heard a deep voice raised in a shout and a high pitch voice yelling as well. Shit, he had no luck at all. Both Ciri and Geralt at once, what had he done to deserve this? 

He was also not appreciative of all of the body parts that were pushing him down into the water. Yes, he was all for being comfortable in one’s skin and all that, but having his friends bits and bobs suddenly shoved into him with no warning was disconcerting to say the least. He tried to wriggle his way out from underneath them but had Yennefer shove him back down forcefully in response. Good thing he didn’t actually need air to breathe, otherwise these idiots would kill him trying to protect him. 

Suddenly, he felt Yennefer and Lambert pulled off of him before a big hand was yanking him out of the water. He whimpered a bit at the way he was being held, feeling like a wet kitten about to be scolded for falling in the water. He looked up cautiously to see Geralt’s face set into a rigid mask while Ciri bounced around his feet in agitation. 

“What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” Geralt bit out slowly. 

“Jaskier, why is your skin all pretty and your teeth look super sharp and you don’t look like you anymore?” Ciri questioned, her eyes sharp as she watched him. He hated the little light of caution he could see in her eyes, part of him wanting to scream out that it was still him, that she should never be afraid of him.

Geralt spun around at her words, as if he had forgotten she was there. “Ciri, go and stay with Vesemir,” he barked out, keeping a firm hold of the scruff of Jaskier’s neck as if he was trying to keep him in place. The young girl opened her mouth like she was about to protest but Geralt growled at her and with a defiant sigh and another questioning look at Jaskier, she stalked out of the room. 

“You don’t have to send her away,” Yennefer snapped. “It’s not like he would ever hurt her.” 

“You can shut the fuck up as well. You let him near Ciri without telling me, how do you even know if this is still Jaskier and not just some monster biding its time before it kills us all?” 

Jaskier whimpered again at the force behind Geralt’s words, at the fear and anger he could see mingling in the golden eyes that bored into him. There was no trace of the expression he had shown just that morning when they had been cuddled together in the bed, he was acting as if he didn’t even recognise the bard anymore. Why was he surprised by this, he had known that Geralt wouldn’t react well to his little secret. 

“You’re overreacting, Geralt. You know that Eskel and I would never allow a threat to come into the keep, you can’t be stupid enough not to trust that we would know if Jaskier was a threat. Honestly, you know him, do you think he would ever hurt anyone here?” Lambert said, his tone remaining remarkably calm as if he was trying to diffuse the situation. 

Geralt growled back at him. “I would have hoped that you would be sensible enough to keep unknown threats away from our home, but apparently I was wrong. You didn’t fucking tell me, how am I mean to keep everyone safe if I don’t know where the threat is coming from?” 

Jaskier wanted to speak, to try and defend himself, but he knew that anything he said right now would be ignored and torn to pieces. He hung limply from Geralt’s hands, hating that he had caused the witcher so much fear, that he was the reason that they were screaming at each other like this. He knew he shouldn’t have come here, he knew better. It was always going to end up like this. 

Yennefer scoffed at his anger, only winding him up further. Jaskier could feel the tension in the way he gripped his neck. “Thank you for confirming all of Jaskier’s worst fears about you, you sack of shit. Have you stopped to think for a moment about why he didn’t feel like he could tell you, because it's shit like this that he was worried about. Look at him, are you really scared that he is going to go on a murderous rampage around the keep when he isn’t even trying to get away from you while you scream about what a monster he is? There’s only one monster in the room at the moment, Geralt, and it isn’t Jaskier.” 

Geralt looked at her for a moment before turning his gaze onto Jaskier. The fossegrim cringed under his scrutiny, keeping his mouth closed to keep his teeth out of sight and trying to look as non threatening as possible, which wasn’t too hard given he was hanging naked in the air and dripping water everywhere. The witcher made a strangled noise in the back of his throat before dropping the bard back into the water with a splash, taking a step back and running a hand over his face. 

Jaskier surfaced quickly, his instincts screaming to keep the potential threat in sight while his heart shattered in his chest. Geralt wasn’t looking as violent as he had before, a small flash of recognition in his eyes when he looked at the bard, but he still wasn’t treating him like he was the man he had known for several decades. 

Geralt sighed again, looking tired all of a sudden. “Alright, so what are you then, Jaskier. Explain to me what the hell I walked in on.” 

Jaskier cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fossegrim. It’s, like, a water spirit associated with music and all of that. Not violent, really, unless we are threatened or someone we care about is threatened. I promise, I’m not a threat to anyone here, I would die before I let anything hurt them. Hell, I almost did trying to make sure Ciri got out of Cintra, and..”

“Wait, you were in Cintra when it fell? How the hell did I not see you there?” Geralt interrupted. 

Jaskier blushed a little. “I think I caught scent of you in the middle of it all, but Mousesack asked me to try and find you to get Ciri to you and I got caught up with a large amount of them when I saw Ciri getting out and didn’t want anyone following her. It wasn't my finest moment, I ended up in a well for like two weeks after it, but there was no way in hell I was letting them get to my cub.” He instinctively bared his teeth a little at the memory and then flinched when he saw Geralt’s gaze catch on his serrated teeth. 

Geralt hummed at him thoughtfully, obviously cataloguing all the changes in the bard with his eyes. Lambert snorted in anger. “Fucking asshole. Jaskier has been nothing but nice to you and you throw it back in his face like this. Jaskier, you shouldn’t have to defend yourself to this asshole. Imagine how he would have acted if you had put him on trial like this for being a fucking witcher. Come on, let’s go.” With that Lambert pulled Jaskier out of the spring and started bundling him up into a towel. “We can find you a nice river somewhere and you can relax in that for a bit with no wankers around to terrorise you. I’m sure Vesemir will know of somewhere we can take you.” 

“Vesemir knows?” Geralt asked in a quiet voice. 

“Of fucking course he does, but you didn’t stop to ask that when you started accusing Jaskier of being a threat to us all, did you? Now fuck off, I don’t want to look at your face anymore.” He turned his back on his brother, holding out a hand to Yennefer to help her out of the spring too. She stepped out unselfconsciously, more focused on getting to Jaskier and making sure that was alright rather than trying to cover up. Jaskier looked down at himself and blinked in shock when he saw the way his hands were trembling. He must be going into shock, he thought distantly. How annoying. 

He felt he couldn't stop staring at his hands, the patterned skin and the way his fingers seemed almost to dance in the air, it was as if there weren’t really his anymore. If he could just focus enough on his hands, he could drown out the words he could hear being thrown between Yennefer and Geralt, the voice in the back of his head that was screaming and screaming and just wouldn’t stop. A thin, wordless cry slipped past his lips and the others froze, turning to stare at him. 

“I can’t... I can’t...” He couldn’t raise his head to see their expressions, could only collapse against Lambert’s chest and keep staring at his hands. 

Lambert said something and passed him over to Yennefer, who was somehow already dressed. She held him steady for a moment while Lambert dressed, still arguing with Geralt, before Lambert swung the bard up into his arms and strode from the room. He looked blankly around him as he was carried through the keep, not really registering what was going on around him. He saw Ciri flash by as he was carried out, her mouth opening as if she was saying something but the rushing in his ears drowned out her words. She looked concerned, but she was quickly left behind as Lambert moved swiftly through the keep and outside. He saw Vesemir’s face flash by as he seemed to yell something at them before he was handed off to Yennefer for another moment and then pulled up onto a horse in front of Lambert.

The world went by in a blur for Jaskier, his voice too full of his own screaming to pay much attention to the world around him. He should leave, he should go far away from this place and be somewhere where his monstrousness wouldn’t bother all the others. Clearly he had been kidding himself to think that he could carry on as if he was still good old Jaskier the bard, he was a monster now and he needed to accept this fact. 


	48. As you grip me like an animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier deals with Geralt's outburst.

It seemed to take forever and also no time for Lambert to get them to a river. He quickly dismounted the horse, swinging Jaskier with him like a damsel in distress, and moved towards the water. He heard Yennefer cry out as he caught sight of the water and with a quick movement struggled out of Lambert’s arms and towards the water with a flash. Lambert swore and tackled him to the ground, sound seeming to flow back into the world as his head hit the dirt. 

“Hold him, for fucks sake, Lambert. If he gets into that water it’s going to be a shit show getting him back. Fuck, I’ll get Eskel and Vesemir,” he heard Yennefer screaming at them while Lambert continued to swear in his ear as he wrestled with the deperate movements of the fossegrim beneath him. There was the sound of a portal opening and Yennefer’s calling for the other witcher’s was drowned out by Lambert’s cry of pain as Jaskier sank his teeth into the man’s arms in a bid to get away from him. 

“Hurry the fuck up, Yennefer, he’s fucking strong. I don’t know how long I can hold him and if he starts to sing we’re fucked.” The continuous swearing from the witcher almost drowned out the sound of two men barreling through the portal and almost running straight over the two men fighting on the floor. 

“What happened?” Vesemir asked, automatically dropping to the ground and pinning the fossegrim’s hands to the floor so that he couldn’t rake at them with his nails. “Yennefer, can you do something to stop him singing, I don’t fancy my head exploding from the pressure once he remembers to use it.” 

Yennefer cursed under her breath and muttered a few words, a gag quickly materialising in the bard’s mouth causing him to make muffled screams at the sudden appearance. 

“That fucking asshole snuck up on us, saw Jaskier without his earring and went fucking mental at him. Kept going off about Jaskier being a threat to Ciri and the rest of us, like Jaskier would ever hurt us. You better fucking deal with him when we get back, Vesemir, or I will fucking kill him.” 

Eskel snarled at the comment, sitting on top of Jaskier’s legs to keep him immobile so that Lambert was able to pull off of him. “Yennefer, you can help me to rip his cock off without him dying, right? I want him to fucking feel it.” 

Vesemir sighed heavily. “I’ll deal with it. Now, since you brought him all the way out here, I assume that Jaskier needs more water time before he starts desiccating. Yennefer, you any good at conjuring ropes so we can bind him? If we let him in the water as he is, we won’t be seeing him again for a while. I would say that he’s gone into shock and his instincts are running the show, so he would most likely start swimming and not stop for a good long while. If we can get him in the water and get him calm, he should snap out of it.”

Yennefer nodded and set about conjuring some thick ropes, strong enough to keep a pissed off fossegrim contained, and paced helplessly as the two younger witcher’s set about binding the foosegrim’s limbs so that he would be unable to swim off. “Make sure you aren’t hurting him, I don’t think he is aware of how much some of this should hurt at the moment but he’s going to be sore when he snaps out of it,” she fretted, trying to maintain her usual icy demeanour but her panic seeping through her tone as Jaskier twisted and turned under their hands in an attempt to wriggle free. 

Vesemir huffed reassuringly from his spot pinning down the fossegrim while his pups worked. “He’ll be fine, Yennefer. We can take care of him once he’s in his right mind. The sooner we get him in the water, the sooner he will feel better. And he has rather fantastic healing capabilities, do not forget that.” 

Yennefer nodded distractedly, moving to supervise the way the two men moved Jaskier into the water once he was bound. She kept her hands at the ready, prepared to unleash her magic in order to keep the bard with them. “We brought him here, we need to fucking fix this,” she muttered under her breath. 

Eskel nudged her gently as he moved past her with Jaskier’s feet in his hands. “It’ll be fine, Yenna. Once he is back to himself we can talk to him and make sure he knows how much we love him. Just because Geralt is a fucking idiot, we shouldn’t let that ruin this winter for him. He deserves to have a place he feels safe and we will make Kaer Morhen that for him if it’s the last thing we do.”

Vesemir hummed in agreement. “I told this boy that he would be safe here. By the gods, I will make sure that he feels that way. Geralt can bring his issues to me, his is not going around making my guests uncomfortable.” 

Lambert and Eskel slowly lowered the fossegrim into the water while Vesemir and Yennefer watched anxiously. As soon as Jaskier touched the water he started thrashing in their grip, a high pitched wail escaping from behind his gag as he tried to get himself submerged and away from the pain ricocheting around in his chest. He was unable to escape the firm grip they had around his limbs, and after a few minutes of struggling with all his strength he sagged in their grip, allowing them to move him deeper into the water and keep hold of him. 

“Don’t be fooled,” Vesemir said sharply when the two witchers started to ease their grip on him. “He’s just tired, but if you give him a chance he’ll be off faster than you two at bath time.” 

The two witchers scowled at that but kept a tight hold of the fossegrim in their arms. Jaskier tried to pout around his gag, his mind slowly drifting back from the fog of pain it had disappeared off into. He blushed, thinking about how much of a pain in the ass he was being for the others. He shouldn’t be making a scene like this, it wasn’t fair on them. They just wanted to enjoy their winter together and he was ruining it again. 

“Ungag him,” Yennefer said briskly. “With that level of unhappiness and regret in his eyes, Jaskier is definitely back.” Jaskier huffed indignantly at her words, but couldn’t meet her eyes. Eskel hesitantly worked the gag out from between his teeth. 

“I’m so sorry, guys. You can put me down, I won’t be any trouble, I promise,” Jaskier said quietly. He kept his eyes averted from the others, not wanting to see the anger and blame on their faces. 

“Oh, Jaskier,” Yennefer sighed before wading into the river. He flinched violently when he was tugged out of the witchers' arms and into her embrace, trying to shrink in on himself and away from the undeserved affection he could feel emanating from her. “Stop being the self-sacrificing idiot you are and understand that we fucking love you and always will. You aren’t a monster or any of the other shit that Geralt said, so don’t you dare plan on leaving in the dead of the night or some shit to save us all from you. I will find you and I will beat the shit out of you if you even think about trying it, you watch me.” 

She was sobbing into his shoulder by this point, wavering on her feet until the two witchers grabbed onto the pair of them, pulling them into a group hug. There was a sigh and then Vesemir’s arms wound around them all, his steadfast, reassuring scene helping Jaskier to focus on the feeling of those around him rather than the pain he felt. 

“Why do I always get the noble, self-sacrificing idiot children. You lot are far too foolhardy to be let out on the world alone. Thank the gods that you have each other now, otherwise I have no idea how I would be able to sleep at night,” Vesemir rumbled. The two witchers cried out in protest and Jaskier giggled wetly as he felt more than saw Vesemir clip them both on the side of the head. 

Lambert let out a small snicker and before Jaskeir could brace himself in fear, the witcher shoved all of his weight into the pile of bodies, toppling them into the water with a savage cry.

They all surfaced, spluttering, and Jaskier couldn’t contain a small smile as Yennfer and Vesemir both fixed Lambert’s triumphant face with angry glares before diving on top of him and holding him over. Eskel chuckled, pulling Jaskier into a loose hug as they watched the three of them tussling in the shallows.

“Stay with us, Jaskier. You’re the one that brought us all together and let us have this, let us have fun again. Before you, we would all have been back in that keep training all day. You brought us games and fun again, don’t you dare let Geralt take that away from you. No monster could ever bring this much joy to so many people.”

Jaskier let out a strangled sob and turned to bury his face in Eskel’s chest, weeping like a child into his already sodden shirt. 

“Let it out, little lark, let it all out. We will always love you.”


	49. You angel heart you monster oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is taken to the river.

Yennefer didn’t last long in the water, the meltwater making the Gwenllech icy cold at this time of year. She gave Lambert one last shove and then hauled herself out of the water, shivering and almost blue as she had to lift her sodden dress up and out of her way to stop it pulling her back in. 

Eskel, from his spot in the river holding Jaskier tight, turned and aimed a rather well controlled Igni at the sorceress, drying her dress without catching it alight. She turned and looked at him in surprise. 

“Well well, that was rather well done, master witcher. We could almost make a proper mage of you,” she grinned at him appreciatively. Eskel blushed and hid his face in Jaskier’s head. 

Vesemir snorted proudly. “Eskel has always had a talent for the signs. We’ve always said that he was lucky those Ban Ard idiots didn’t come knocking for him.” 

Yennefer laughed at that, her amusement pulling Jaskier from his hiding place in Eskel’s chest to look at her warily. “Those poor sods wouldn’t have known what to do with you, Eskel. That would have been a sight to see, all those poncey assholes trying to make you sit still and learn your lessons, you would have set them straight rather fast I imagine.” 

Eskel kept trying to hide, his shoulders shaking with laughter when Lambert started putting on airs and prancing around pretending to be a Ban Ard boy. Jaskier couldn’t miss the quick glances all of them kept throwing at him, even as Vesemir waded out of the water muttering about being too old to be so cold and Eskel started shivering behind him. He was quite happy in the water, but he knew that his witchers wouldn’t do too well if they stayed in the water for too long. 

“Eskel, go and get dry,” Jaskier said quietly into his shirt even as his hands clutched at the fabric reflexively. 

“I’m fine here, little lark,” the witcher replied, trying to force away the small shudders working through his body. 

Jaskier frowned and forced himself to peel away from the man as much as he could with the thick arms wrapped around him. “You’re freezing. Go and warm up, I promise I won’t go anywhere.” 

Eskel held his eyes for a moment longer before brushing his face through the bard’s hair again and pulling away. Jaskier could swear he felt a brief kiss pressed to his head as he moved away. He knew that the other’s were watching him carefully as the two younger witchers moved out of the water and towards the small fire that Vesemir had quickly assembled to dry off, mindful that they were all expecting him to try and vanish off into the wilderness at any moment.

Jaksier sighed and moved to lounge in the shallows, resting his arms on the bank to anchor himself against the current as he watched them huddle around the fire. 

“If you boys are going to stay out here with him for the rest of the day, you are going to need a hell of a lot more layers and some more fuel for the fire,” Vesemir said, ever the practical one. His boys started nodding, already starting to plan what they needed to get from the keep. 

Jaskier made a noise of protest. “Neither of you need to stay out here in the cold all night. I’m fine, I can stay out here by myself.” All four of them turned incredulous looks on him, clearly doubting his intelligence. He sighed. “Or I can just come back with you all and we can stay in the keep so that you don’t freeze to death.” 

Yennefer snorted at him in annoyance. “Stop being fucking stupid. No one is leaving you alone out here to mope and feel sorry for yourself and you need some more time in the water, so that is exactly what you will get. So stop being an idiot and let us look after you, you moron.” 

Lambert snickered at her. “Way to make him feel loved, Yennefer. Don’t worry, Jaskier. You know you can’t chase us off. You’re stuck with us now and always.” Eskel and Vesemir echoed his last words, shooting fond looks to the fossegrim. He felt his eyes well up with tears again. 

“Oh, little songbird, what did my idiot son say to you?” Vesemir asked in a heavy voice, moving to sit beside Jaskier and pull the fossegrim half out of the water so that his head was in his lap and he could stroke through the bard’s hair like he was gentling a cat. 

Jaskier tried to stifle the urge to just sob into the witcher’s lap. “It’s fine, honestly. He was concerned when he saw me. I think he was worried that there had been a threat to Ciri in the keep all this time and he had no idea. I mean, I should have expected it, I did expect it really. He was just being a good witcher, a good father figure to her. I know I’m a monster and his natural instinct was always going to be to try and neutralise the threat. I don’t know why I can’t stop crying, I really shouldn’t have been surprised.” His voice was only a thin, weedy thread, the effort to keep the tears away taking a strain on his voice. 

Vesemir hushed him gently, smoothing the hair away from his face. “Right, so clearly Geralt is allowed to react however he wants and you just have to deal with it,” he said sarcastically. “I thought there was a brain in this head of yours, Jaskier. You have every right to be upset. You were in a place where you should have felt safe, amongst friends and family. There was no call for Geralt to fly off the handle, no matter how concerned he was. Unfortunately, my idiot wolf tends to react first and do it aggressively. I’ve tried to teach my pups to be sensible and think before they speak, but I can’t say I’ve been too successful.”

Eskel and Lambert both protested weakly, pulling a wet chuckle out of the bard. “But it’s his home too, Vesemir. I know how much Kaer Morhen means to you all and I would hate to feel like any of you didn’t feel safe in your own home when you never have that out on the Path.” 

Vesemir hummed thoughtfully. “You really are too good for us all, Jaskier. You deserve a place where you can feel safe as well, and from what the boys have told me you don’t have that anywhere else. You shouldn’t try to sabotage your own happiness to make everyone else happy, you need to learn to look out for your own happiness first, my little songbird. Once you feel better you will be coming back to the keep with my boys. They will look after you tonight while I deal with Geralt and calm down Ciri, then you will come back and we will all have a little chat about respecting each other’s boundaries and being polite.” Vesemir kept his voice quiet and even, the repetitive movement of his hand through Jaskier’s hair coaxing his eyes closed after all the stress he had gone through. 

The bard relaxed into the witcher’s hold, listening to the sound of Lambert, Eskel, and Yennefer gently bickering around the fireplace while Vesemir soothed the fossegrim. 

“I don’t want to ruin it for everyone. Family is important, I know that, and I don’t want to get in the middle of yours. You shouldn’t have to talk to Geralt about it, I can just keep myself away from him or if it would make it better I can stay in my room unless one of you is with me or something,” Jaskier muttered to himself more than anything. 

Vesemir tapped him gently on the forehead. “Little songbird, no. Family is important, and my boys have clearly claimed you as theirs so that makes you part of my family too. And I look after my family, those two lug heads will tell you that. So I will be talking to Geralt and making it clear that you are part of the family and he needs to treat you as such. Stop your worrying and just focus on being yourself, I doubt you are able to do that much out there. Hell, the mask you came in wearing was impressive enough that I doubt you would have been able to really relax in many years.” 

Jaskier whimpered softly, burrowing his face against the witcher’s leg. The witcher hummed monotonously again, a simple sound to set the bard at ease. “I know, little songbird, I know. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you take a little nap while the others sort it all out? I’ll stay here with you and you can just enjoy the water and listen to the birds and the sounds of nature. If we’re lucky, even Lambert will stop babbling and you can get some real sleep before you have to put up with my two idiots for the rest of the day.” 

Jaskier chuckled at his words before settling in, relishing the feeling of being cared for with the pain of rejection still twisting and clawing at his heart. Vesemir kept humming, no real tune but more a continuous noise to lull Jaskier to sleep. The bard could hear his friends, his family, all around him, helping to soothe the gaping hole inside him that cried out and howled in pain at being labeled a monster. 


	50. I’d be standing there between you and him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and the boys stay out at the river.

Once Yennefer had portaled some resources to the two men to make sure that they wouldn’t freeze to death while they kept the fossegrim company, Yennefer and Vesemir left them to it and went back to the keep to sort out the others. Once they had built a suitably large fire and the witchers had bundled up in several layers of coats and furs, they passed the day playing Gwent. 

Unfortunately for Jaskier, Lambert was a horrific cheat and Eskel was fairly useless at the game, so it was a good test of his patience. The first time he started to complain to them, he checked himself, panic flooding him at the idea that he may piss them off and then they would leave him alone and not want him to go back to the keep at all. Seeing him bite his tongue, both witchers had jumped on him, dogpiling back into the river to hug him and repeat to him how much they needed him and that he would never be rid of them. 

He had then had to coax them back out of the water, worried that they would freeze to death and then he would have to explain to Vesemir why two of his sons were frozen solid. They clambered out with their usual enthusiasm, collapsing next to the fire and threatening the bard with violence if he kept us “this moping shit” for much longer. Jaskier smiled softly at them. He loved his boys so much, they were so good to him. 

As the sun started to set, the witchers busied themselves setting up a tent for the night while the bard sang softly to them, using the excuse of providing entertainment to avoid getting out of the water. Lambert grumbled goodnaturedly as he worked, but Eskel kept stopping to pat at Jaskier’s hair as he walked past until his brother started complaining that he was doing all the work by himself now. It took them longer than it should have to get the tent set up with the way they bickered. Jaskier kept making up silly little rhymes to keep them laughing. 

Lambert and Eskel then turned on the bard with grins on their faces. “Right then,” Lambert said. “Since you had so much fun laughing at us, you can sort out dinner. There must be some fish in that river, see what you can find, mister fish.” 

Jaskier rolled his eyes at them and slipped back into the water, grumping to himself even as he recognised the trust they were putting in him by letting him go out of their sight. It didn't take him long to get bored of looking for fish, he started singing one of the songs he had rattling around in the fossegrim part of his brain, grinning as the fish started swimming towards him as they followed the sound of his song. He quickly grabbed a few that looked like they would be particularly tasty (he had no idea what kind of fish they were, yes he knew a lot of fish names but why the hell would he need to know which one was which) and turned a neat sumersault in the water to head back to his witchers. 

With a mischievous grin, he made sure he approached them quietly, staying under the surface until he was right by where they were camping. He saw Eskel catch sight of him, but managed to scare Lambert when he shot out of the water with a victorious shout. “I am the fishing master!” he yelled, smirking when Lambert leapt to his feet with a panicked cry and almost pulled a sword on him. 

“Fucking asshole, give them here,” Lambert groused, snatching the fish from him and starting to prepare them for the fire. 

“Well done, little lark,” Eskel praised gently. “We should get you to help us stock up before we go back. We could smoke a whole lot and keep them preserved for the winter to break up all the red meat we tend to eat.” 

“True, what a useful little addition you are to the keep,” Lambert said from his position around the fire. “Entertainment and more food, we should have traded you for Geralt years ago.” 

Jaskier splashed water at him, making sure that none touched the fire, in remonstration. “There is no trading anyone for anyone else. I’m not going to be the reason that anyone gets kicked out of their home, so don’t even joke about it.” 

“Not like the asshole doesn’t deserve it. Shit, he’s going to be screwed when Vesemir catches hold of him. I’ve seen how the old man is with you, you're quickly becoming one of his favourites, so Geralt is going to be in for it.” Lambert grinned savagely to himself. 

“Don’t forget Yennefer,” Eskel added with a matching smile. “She’s going to royally pissed. Idiot is lucky if his innards stay where they are meant to. Oh, and once Ciri has a bit more of an idea as to what’s going on...” Both men winced at the thought. “She’s getting pretty good with her sword training.” 

“Cut it out, you two,” Jaskier whinged from the river. “You’re not making me feel any better. Geralt has his reasons for acting like he did, even if it wasn’t exactly how I imagined the conversation going.” The knife in his ribs dug in a little deeper at the thought. “You need to let me deal with this mess on my own, I can look after myself.” 

Eskel and Lambert swapped a look before grinning at him. “If you really think that we aren’t going to take your side in this, you're crazier than we thought,” Eskel said gently. 

Lambert poked at the fish on the fire, clearly impatient for them to cook. “We will always stand up for you, Jaskier. You should know that by now. You’re one of us, and we protect our own. Geralt has benefitted from it many times before, now he needs to realise that it goes both ways and he needs to deal with the consequences of his actions.” 

Jaskier felt his eyes well up with tears at the unconditional love and support he was getting from them both. “Alright, enough of the feelings. I thought I was out here with two of the biggest baddest witchers in the Continent, not a pair of cry babies. Tell me Yennefer sent us some alcohol or something to pass the time.” 

Eskel sighed but obediently rummaged through the bags the mage had dropped off, pulling out a couple of demijohns of vodka with some fanfare. He passed them round and Lambert handed out the fish, settling in for a relaxing night with friends. They stayed up talking shit and telling stories as they eat and drank, and when the two witchers retired back into their tent with muttered good nights and what Jaskier was certain was more friendly than usual pats on the head, the fossegrim moved himself so that only his legs were still in the water and fell asleep on the bank, trying to force any bad thoughts away with the clear evidence of how loved he was. 

\---

It only took them an hour to pack up in the morning with Jaskier making himself useful and collecting enough fish for them to take back and then they were walking back to Kaer Morhen. Without the water around him, Jaskier was freezing despite all the furs and layers the two men had heaped on them and the way the witchers kept passing him between them, hugging him to their chests as they walked under the pretense of sharing body heat. It also meant that they could feel the way he shook in fear at what was to come, imagined situations rushing through his mind one after another and almost sending him into another panic attack. 

Eskel and Lambert kept up a running conversation, bickering about who was better at getting money from the people who issued contracts in an attempt to distract the bard. Jaskier teased them between chattering teeth. “Both of you are crap at it. Lambert, you get all growly and snarky, and Eskel love, you need to be a bit more forceful. This is why you need to let me organise all of your contracts, I used to fo it for Geralt before and it seemed to work out well.” He bit his cheek at the reminder of more pleasant times, trying not to visually react but feeling Eskel clutch him a little tighter at the mention. 

He panicked a bit more as he saw the keep gates looming over them, the fear and pain forcing his breath out of his chest in an abrupt huff and making it hard for him to take another deep breath. Lambert quickly stepped in front of them both, ready to lead the way in and looking like he was spoiling for a fight. 

“Yennefer, Vesemir, we’re back!” he called out, eyes flicking around all of the windows as he stepped into the courtyard. Jaskier forced down a whimper, wishing that he had his earring but knowing that Yennefer had grabbed it after he panicked and still had hold of it. 

“JASKIER!” he heard Ciri yelling moments before she came flying down some stairs and threw herself at them. She nearly knocked Eskel over as she quickly clambered over him, treating him like a climbing frame as she pulled herself up his back so that she was looking over her shoulders down as Jaskier where Eskel was holding him like a damsel in distress. “Are you hurt? Is that why Eskel is holding you? You look so pretty like this, your skin is all cool and you look like you’re glowing!” 

Eskel chuckled and wriggled his shoulders to dislodge her before he placed Jaskier back onto his feet. “Calm down, Ciri, he’s fine, just a bit cold.”

“Hi, little lion cub,” Jaskier said hesitantly, trying to hide his teeth as he smiled at her. She beamed back at him and launched at him for a hug. 

“I’m so sorry that Geralt was being such a piece of shit,” she barely winced when Eskel tapped her on the head and muttered “langauge.” “He should never have said that, I know that you would never ever hurt me. Vesemir and Yennefer said that you helped to get me out of Cintra, that you were probably what I saw fighting all those soldiers as Mousasack tried to get me out. You know that I love you forever and always, right Jaskier?” She looked up at him with her big green eyes swimming with tears, seeming beside herself at the idea of Jaskier being upset. 

“Oh, my darling little cub, I love you too.” Jaskier said weakly, burying his face in her hair to hide the tears streaming down his face. 

“Why did you never tell me?” Ciri muttered, clutching at him tightly. “I want to know all of the amazing things you can do. Yennefer said you can make people’s heads explode when you sing, I want to learn how to do that.” 

Jaskier chucked through his tears. “I’m so sorry, my little cub, I was worried you would be scared of me, but I had clearly forgotten just how brave and ferocious you are. I’m sure we can find a less messy way for me to show you what I can do than exploding heads, it’s not the prettiest sight.” 

Ciri giggled and pulled out of the hug, keeping hold of his hand and starting to lead him inside. “Vesemir said you need to come and eat something because he didn’t trust Eskel and Lambert to feed you properly.” 

“Hey, see if we share the fish we brought you, your royal highness,” Lambert teased, ruffling her hair with one hand as he passed with their catch in the other to take to the kitchens. Jaskier grinned softly, wiping at the tears on his face. If his lion cub was happy with him, then he would be able to deal with whatever Geralt had to say. He would do anything to keep his girl happy, and he had the others to help him remember how loved he was. He would be alright. 


	51. How bold I was, could be - will be - still am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier runs into Geralt.

It didn’t take long for them to run into Geralt. The man was sitting in the great hall holding what looked like some ice wrapped in a rag to what appeared to be a light burn on his face, what looked like several bandages around his arms with spots of blood leaking through. Jaskier tamped down the instincts shouting for him to go and try to comfort the witcher, the pain he still felt whenever he thought about how he had been accused of being a threat to the people he loved the most in the world. 

“Jaskier, I...” Geralt started, going to lift up from his seat and approach them. Jaskier took a step back instinctively, irrational fear welling up in his throat at the idea that he was about to be yelled at again. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eskel snarled from where he stood behind Jaskier and Ciri. “Sit your fucking ass down and don’t even look at him. You’re lucky that I have better things to do right now then kick your ass like you deserve.” 

Geralt made a noise in protest looking like he was still going to move towards him when Ciri was suddenly standing in front of Jaskier with a knife. “I can keep practicing, Geralt. You said that I should always be prepared to defend my friends, and I thought I had already proved to you that I can.” 

The witcher wilted under her angry glare, rubbing at the wounds on his arms with his free hand as he sat back in his chair. “I just wanted to apologise,” he said quietly. Jaskier couldn’t miss the way he kept looking around at the others as if waiting for an attack. Clearly Vesemir and Yennefer had been rather vocal about how they felt when they got back to the keep and from the looks of it Ciri had joined in as well. 

Jaskier looked at him coldly, all of the pain and heartache he felt clear in his eyes. “If I actually thought you would be sincere in your apology, I might listen. As it stands, I am certain that anything you say to me right now will be more because you are afraid of what the others will do to you than any thought about how your actions have hurt me. But there is one thing you should remember, Geralt,” he bared his teeth at the witcher, his voice taking on an unearthly quality, “it isn’t them that you should be scared of. You called me a monster, well, you haven’t seen quite how monstrous I can be to those who hurt me.” 

With that he stalked past him and towards the stairs, feeling Geralt’s eyes following him with wonder and fear. Ciri skipped along behind him, waving goodbye with her knife, while Eskel glared at his brother and stalked after them both menacingly. 

Jaskier managed to hold it together for a few flights of stairs before he collapsed to the floor, shaking with adrenaline and panic. Ciri quickly cuddled up to him, tucking her knife somewhere on her person before she wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and pressed kisses to the tears that had materialised on his face. 

Eskel sighed and stood over the pair of them. “You did well, little lark. I am sure Lambert and Yennefer will be so proud of the way you threatened him there. Hell, even I got chills at that. And Ciri, that whole stabbing thing is really working well for you. Remind me to teach you how to use some throwing knives at some point, I think you would do well with them.” 

Ciri turned to beam up at him and Jaskier chuckled shakily at them both. “I don't think she needs any more encouragement, Eskel. She’s bloodthirsty enough as it is, although we shouldn’t be surprised given she is the Lion Cub of Cintra and was raised by witchers.” 

Ciri pressed some more kisses into his face. “If I learn how to use throwing knives then I can stab Geralt from a distance when he says stupid things. Everyone always talks about Geralt is this huge hero and he protects the weak and all of that, but he’s being a really bad friend at the moment and he needs to learn to watch his mouth.” 

Eskel ruffled her hair and pulled them both to their feet. “Yes, well, we all know better than to believe what everyone else has to say.” 

“He is a good man, Ciri, believe me.” Jaskier didn’t want her to think badly of the man, he was her guardian after all and the only parental figure she had left. He didn’t want his problems to take the new security she had found in her life away from her. “I know you disagree with his actions at the moment, but you need to understand that he will have his reasons. You need to listen to both sides of the story before you make a decision.” He started leading the way to the library, planning on finding a nice patch of sunlight and losing himself in a book so that he could pretend that the last few days had never happened. 

Ciri poked her tongue out at him and jumped up the stairs in front of him. “I know, I’m old enough to make my own decisions, Jaskier. I will always love Geralt for all that he has done for me, but he needs to think before he speaks more and not freak out all the time. He acts like I’m some little doll that is going to break if he lets anything near me and I hate that he tried to use me as an excuse to blow up at you like that when he’s just scared about things changing. He needs to think about his emotions more, not keep going on about how witcher’s don't feel.” 

Eskel grinned. “Is he still repeating that shit? Vesemir told us that when we were kids coz he didn't want to deal with all the whining and hurt feelings when we would start fights as kids. That and he wanted us to have some kind of emotional barriers in place for when the world treated us like freaks. The rest of us recognised that it was a line years ago, I can’t believe that emotionally repressed dumbass is still going around believing it.” 

Jaskier opened the door to the library a bit more viciously then he needed to and flung himself into one of the comfy chairs he had quickly claimed as his during their stay at the keep. “So I have Vesemir to blame for all the shit he put me through these past few years, fan-fucking-tastic. And I can’t even be mad at Vesemir because he would have assumed that none of you were stupid enough to believe him for the last few decades. Ugh, this is shit.”

Ciri grabbed one of the adventure stories she had found and cuddled up on the floor next to his chair, using his legs as a back rest. Eskel pulled a chair next to them and sat down, trying not to look like the bodyguard he was acting as. 

“You’re not going to forgive him like last time, are you?” Eskel asked quietly, his golden eyes intent on the bard’s face. There was no judgement in his gaze, he was just waiting to see how the bard wanted to handle this. 

“I don't think I can,” Jaskier replied in the same soft voice. He did his best to keep his tone even, to keep the emotion roiling in his stomach hidden even though he knew the witcher would already know how he felt. “He crossed a line, and he needs to realise that I will not take this any more. I can’t be his punching bag, it hurts me too much. If he wants to fix things then he is going to need to have a good long think about how he treats me. I’m not some human that will disappear from his life in a few years, he needs to treat me like an equal instead of an annoyance or a threat if he wants to have anything to do with me. I’ll always be around, I have you and Ciri and the others, so he better at least learn to be nice so that every time we see each other it doesn't end up in a blood bath.”

Eskel him a proud look. “I’m glad. He needs to realise just what he is missing out on without you. We all know how you feel about him, you can’t deny it, and Lambert, Yennefer, and I were worried that you would be the self-sacrificing idiot and let him walk all over you to try and keep him happier. If this is how he is going to act, he doesn’t deserve you and you can do so much better than him. You are so loved, Jaskier, and you don’t need to take shit from anyone.”

Ciri snuggled closer to his legs and hummed in agreement. Looking at the pair of them, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel the love they talked about, feel the way they cared for him and wanted the very best for him. Maybe Geralt would learn to value him the way the others did, but if he didn’t then Jaskier would have to learn to move on with his life and love himself to make up for it. 


	52. Place your smile in mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is surrounded by his friends.

Jaskier’s righteous anger lasted for a lot longer than he was expecting before he devolved back into the shaking panic of before. He hated it, hated feeling like this when he knew that he was in the right and the others would support him, but he couldn’t help the small part of him that felt like at any moment it would all be taken out from underneath him and he would be back to roaming the world by himself pretending to be the happy go lucky bard the world thought of him. 

Ciri was good enough to clamber into his lap, pulling his face against her neck and singing a lullaby in such a practiced manner that he wondered who had done this for her as a child. He heard more than saw Eskel sneak from the room after the witcher dropped a quick pat to his head, calling out for Lambert and Yennefer before he was even out the door. Jaskier tried to pull in a normal breath, going to pull away from Ciri’s embrace so as not to alarm her but relaxing against her when she gripped him tight with one arm and he felt something sharp prick his ribs gently in warning. He really needed to remember to take all of those knives from her once he was more himself. No small child should have such ready access to weapons in his opinions, not even one raised by witchers and related to the Lion of Cintra. 

She kept singing to him and he tried to focus on the lyrics to pull himself out of the panic that was threatening to engulf him. He chuckled shakily as he realised that her lullaby was obviously being adapted on the fly as she kept muttering “hush little fishy” every so often and there were far more references to stabbing people in the face then he would expect from most children’s lullabies. 

Jaskier managed to get his breathing under control by the time Eskel returned with the others, the three of them pounding up the stairs loudly while Ciri kept singing to him and stroking his back to try and calm the shakes. Jaskier tried again to free himself, not particularly wanting them all to see him cowering in the arms of a teenager, but earned himself another quick jab to the ribs. 

“Ow, come on Ciri, I’m fine,” he protested. He ignored the stabbing and kept trying to squirm out of her arms, grinning when she gave up with a put upon sigh and released him. She glared at him unhappily, clearly wanting to continue comforting him, and he refused to let himself recoil from the disappointment of a thirteen year old, no matter what prophecies there were about her. 

“Have you been looking after our bard for us, Ciri?” Yennefer asked, sweeping into the room and managing to also situate herself on Jaskier’s lap with some slight rearranging. He blinked in surprise to find Yennefer perched on his knee with Ciri on the other, both girls swapping conspiratol looks. Eskel and Lambert came to stand on either side of the chair, Lambert rubbing a hand around Jaskier’s neck in greeting while Eskel started playing with his hair again. 

“I was trying to,” Ciri complained, looking far too much like Yennefer for Jaskier’s own good. When the hell had these two started planning together and why hadn’t he put a stop to it when he had a chance? “But he’s being difficult. Singing seemed to work a bit though, so there’s that to keep in mind. Did you need me to go and stab Geralt some more?”

Jaskier tried not to grin at her penchant for violence. He knew he should probably be trying to dissuade her from acting like this, she was a princess and all, but at the moment he was still feeling a little riled up himself and he had to admit that it made something in his little fossegrim heart sing to hear his cub so ready to act on his behalf. What did it say about him that the idea of violence was making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Oh well, it wasn’t like he was any less screwed up than everyone else here. They could all be messed up together and care for each other. 

Yennefer laughed brightly at the girl’s eager violence, cupping Ciri’s cheek in one hand. “No my darling, you have done spectacularly well for today. I think we will leave him to nurse his wounds for a bit, and I wouldn't want him to become too accustomed to it and have it lose its edge. I think we shall focus our attention on our Jaskier for now. I heard that he grew a backbone today.”

Jaskier sneered at her playfully. “Jaskier is right here and can speak for himself. And yes, I might have grown a small bit of a backbone today, but there should be no call for the tone of surprise there, missy,” he said in a snippy tone. He pulled his best offended face, one he had learnt from some of the actors he had spent some time with when he was on the road, and tried not to grin when Yennefer snickered at him and poked him in the cheek. 

Lambert chuckled and messed with his hair. “I’m sad I missed it. From the sounds of it, you really let Geralt have it. Eskel should have been selling tickets to the show. If you decide to go off at him again, let me know so I can watch. Hell, I can even bring snacks.” Jaskier turned to snarl at him playfully and was pleased when both of his witchers responded with happy snarls of their own. At least some people seemed to be enjoying all of the drama, if he had to deal with it for much longer he was liable to explode. 

“At least someone here is enjoying themselves. Honestly, you lot are just bloodthirsty and want to see someone get injured again. And yes, Ciri, I know that you always want to see someone get injured because you are insanely bloodthirsty and really need to find a new hobby other than stabbing people. You lot need to stop enabling her too, there is no way she is finding all of these knives on her own.” He grinned at the guilty look on both Eskel and Lambert’s faces as they shuffled their feet and tried to avoid his eyes. 

Yennefer started playing with his hair again to bring his attention back to her. “We all know that there is no way we are not teaching Ciri to be the most terrifying princess in all of the Continent. You’re just jealous that a little girl is scarier than you are.” She flashed her charming, ice queen smile to him, baring her teeth viciously. 

Jaskier gasped dramatically and drew a hand to his chest. “How dare you! I am plenty terrifying. I think you remember the whole making heads explode and killing large amounts of soldiers at once. I am the creature in this room people, that should give me some bragging right here.” 

Ciri laughed at him, squishing his face between her hands and placing a loud smacking kiss to his nose. “You’re too adorable and funny to be scary, Jaskier. Besides, you have a crazy powerful sorceress, two witchers who make silly peasants run from them in fear, and whatever the hell I am that you all think I don’t hear you whispering about when you think I’m sleeping. You’re not that scary in comparison.”

Jaskier glared around the room as the others all nodded, puffed up like peacocks at the idea of their reputation being so fearsome. “You lot are no help. Now, I’m going to head downstairs and find Vesemir, I did promise him that I would help him to organise some of the empty rooms around the place so I better get to work. Are you all coming or are you going to find something productive to do with your time?” They all nodded and he grinned at them. “Well then, you and all your egos better get going. Let’s move, oh terrifying and intimidating hunters of the night. Otherwise I am sure Vesemir can find lots of unpleasant jobs for you.” 

The others sighed and he had to shove both girls off of his lap in order to get up. He was quickly pulled into a brief hug by Lambert, a quick “I’m proud of you” muttered in his ear before the witcher pulled away and started walking downstairs with Eskel as if nothing had happened. 

Jaskier stood frozen in shock for a moment. They were all so much more open with their affection than he was used to. Maybe there was something to be said for being in a place where they clearly felt safe to get his witchers to open up a bit more. Hell, they hadn’t even been this relaxed when it had just been the three of them out on the road. Then again, they had all gone through a fair amount since then and they had seen Jaskier at his very worst, so that may have helped them to feel more secure around him. 

He followed them out of the room, pulling Ciri to his side and giving her a brief hug in thanks before shoving lightly at Yennefer and pulling a face. There would be some serious cuddle piles later on that day, and he was looking forward to the chance to get his revenge for all of the teasing. These puppies and kittens wouldn’t know what hit them. 


	53. Give me back my heart you wingless thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vesemir thinks about his pups and Jaskier has a conversation.

Vesemir had decided that he wanted several rooms cleared out to see if there was anything useful in them. With the keep fuller than it had been in decades, he thought that it would be good to take stock of what bedding and other furniture they had available to ensure that they were making the most of the winter to come. Unfortunately, he asked the others to help him, which had resulted in the current debacle in front of him. 

Eskel and Lambert were both fighting in the corner over some blankets that they claimed they remembered from when they were children and had both decided were actually theirs and that the other one should leave them alone. Yennefer and Ciri had managed to find what looked like some old toys that they witchers had used and were busy cooing over how cute they were. Jaskier had managed to find a flute somewhere and was demonstrating that although he was a bard trained in the musical arts, he was also very talented at making loud and annoying noises when he wanted. 

Vesemir sighed and sat down in a chair by the door, shaking his head at their antics. He had always said he wanted a bit more life back in the keep after the deaths of almost everyone he had known. He should have known better and been careful what he wished for, not that he would trade the sight in front of him for anything in the world. Well, the only thing that could have made it better would have been if his other pup wasn’t off hiding somewhere licking his wounds. 

Vesemir scowled at nothing. Hopefully this would be the push that Geralt needed to have a good long look at himself and think about the kind of man he wanted to be. He hadn’t raised his pups to be callous and cruel, but Geralt had seemed to let the hatred of ignorant people warp him from the sweet young boy who had always wanted to be a knight. He hoped that young boy was still in there, deep down, but he worried that the extra mutations had burned the love out of the boy in a way it hadn’t with his other two remaining pups. 

He watched his newest pup with a wary eye. While Jaskier seemed content enough, happy to make a noise and pretend that all was well, he was clearly still troubled by Geralt’s words. The poor lad kept pausing every so often and looking around the room cautiously with one hand to his ear as if feeling for his earring. Yennefer had kept the earring from him, claiming that if everyone else in the keep got to be themselves then there was no need for him to hide himself. It hadn’t seemed to help, he was still jumpy and seemed to be walking on eggshells around the castle, a far cry from the performance he put on whenever others were watching.

The boy felt like he was on the verge of being chased away at any moment. Vesemir had seen plenty of pups like this before and had managed to coax all of them back into the fold, albeit some with more success than others he thought with a glance to his little angry pup as he was now chewing at Eskel’s arm. He wasn’t about to let him make any stupid choices and ruin his own happiness. 

Hell, the two idiot pups needed to admit how much they loved each other and stop making each other miserable. They were each too worried about caring for others, neither ready to think about what they actually wanted and do something about it. He would have to enlist some serious help to get them to pull their heads out of their asses and act like the sensible young men he expected them to be. 

Vesemir norted under his breath. The day those two dumbasses actually started talking through their problems like rational adults was the day he saw a bloody drowner turning vegetarian. Why the gods blessed him with such idiotic chidren he would never know. Maybe this was payback for all of the shit he had gotten up to in his youth. Ah well, nothing for it now but to do his best to make his children happy. And he would have to start with getting the two assholes to actually talk to each other without claws coming out. It would be easier to befriend a ghoul, but he had no choice. 

Fuck, he was getting too old for this shit. 

* * *

Jaskier had managed to slip away from his new body guards for a few minutes and found a quiet room to hide in. He loved them, he really did, but having them constantly around him every second of every day had been exhausting. It had been a week since they had returned from the river, a week filled with preparing for the massive snow storm Vesemir was so sure was coming, and he was shattered from all of the work they had been doing and the way that he never had a moment’s peace. 

He knew that they were just looking out for him. Whenever Geralt approached him, he was warned away with either a brandished knife, a fireball held confidently in one hand, or eyebrows raised threateningly. It had been sufficient in keeping the witcher far away from him, leaving him with lots of confused looks and sad expressions thrown his way as the other man slunk around the castle like a dog that had been punished. He didn’t feel too guilty, the man did deserve most of it, but he also felt as though he should probably start to patch things up with him before the winter became even more uncomfortable as they were forced into closer and closer confines. 

He collapsed into a window seat, looking out at the courtyard where he could see his witchers training. Ciri was with them, trying to chop snowflakes with the training sword she had been given. He enjoyed watching them, especially from a distance where he didn’t have to listen to all of their complaining and teasing. He knew that Vesemir and Yennefer were off discussing politics somewhere, the older man seemed fascinated to hear how all of the royal houses had changed over the years he had spent staying closer to the keep, so they would be busy for hours on end. 

He was glad he had brought his lute with him. The sun was falling on the snow so prettily and there were still a few birds braving the cold to sing cheerfully. There was nothing more a bard could ask for. He strummed a few chords, muttering lyrics absentmindedly with no real rush to think of anything amazing but content to let the music pour through him. This was the kind of thing he lived for. He loved the crazy, adrenaline filled performances he gave in palaces across the Continent and the more intimate but still exciting songs sung in various taverns, but quiet solitary moments where he was alone with his music brought him a sense of joy that he never found anywhere else. 

He is distracted from his music by the sound of the door opening and turns to find Geralt standing awkwardly in the doorway, sneaking looks up at Jaskier while trying to stare holes into his shoes. “Can we talk?” the witcher mumbled. 

Jaskier sighed and placed his lute carefully beside him. He turned to face the witcher, knowing that this conversation would be painful but it would most likely be better to get it over with before they had an audience to ruin it all. He waved his hand at the other man to continue speaking, watching warily as he walked further into the room and pulled over a chair to sit on, arms resting on the back of the chair as he straddled it and gazed at the bard for a moment. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Geralt started in a quiet voice, the words sounding as if they were pulled from the depths of his soul. 

Jaskier stopped him with an imperious gesture. “If this is just some trite apology because you're tired of being threatened, then don’t bother. I only want to hear this if you are actually sorry and can explain to me why.” 

  
Geralt seemed surprised by the vehemence with which Jaskier spoke, and to be fair the bard felt the same. “No, this is a real apology. I see that I was wrong. I spoke out of fear and frustration, but I should not have spoken so. You already know that I...” Geralt paused, clearly struggling to find the right words. Part of Jaskier wanted to comfort him, knowing how much the witcher would be hating this, but his bloody pride wouldn’t let him. “I tend to take out my frustrations on those who do not deserve them, and I fear that I did the same to you. On the mountain and in the hot springs. You have never been anything but kind to me, annoying, yes, but kind all the same. At first I was just mad about Yennefer and the whole Child Surprise situation and I lashed out at you because that was the only way I could take control of something, could know that I was not just Destiny’s bitch. It was the only way I could stop you from being sucked into the shit storm that my life had become. You were mortal and if you stayed around me you would die like everyone always does.” Geralt couldn’t meet his eyes as he spoke, he was fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt with far more concentration than they needed. 

“When you left, I kept thinking that I needed to find you, to make you understand that I didn’t mean any of it. I was so sure that if I could just talk to you, everything would go back to the way it was and we would be able to travel together again. But then Cintra fell and all my time was spent caring for Ciri. I couldn’t leave her alone and she needed so much care. Once I had her and we had figured out how to get along, I went looking for you. I thought that if we found you, you would come back, if only to help with Ciri. I knew that the pair of you would get along and I sure as hell wasn’t the kind of person she needed to raise her. I had no idea what to do with a young girl like that. But I heard at a few inns that you were travelling with another witcher and the song you had written for Lambert started circling around. I knew I couldn’t compete with him, couldn’t ruin whatever happiness you had found. He would be a much better companion for you than me anyway. So I focused on Ciri and resigned myself to the fact that you would most likely hate me forever and that I had deserved it, completely. But at least it meant you would be safe.”

Jaskier knew he had tears in his eyes, but he refused to look away for a second to dash them away. Seeing Geralt bear his heart like this almost broke him, but he knew that if he spoke, if he disrupted the trance-like state that he had fallen into, he would never hear the rest of this. 

“Then you came here and you seemed so happy with them all. Lambert and Eskel dote on you, I can’t remember ever seeing them so happy. Even Yennefer seemed happy for once, she wasn’t as angry and bitter as she used to be. Ciri was so pleased to see you all and was acting like a little girl again, not the tough, damaged young woman she had become. It was torture, seeing everything I had wanted so close in front of me and knowing that I had lost my chance at it. So I did my best to keep you away, to make you hate me, but you kept including me in things, bringing me into the easy comfort you shared with the others and I couldn’t do anything other than hope.” 

“When I saw you in the springs, I was so scared that something had happened to make you like this, that you had been cursed or changed and were no longer the bard I knew. I thought that maybe you were an imposter, here to hurt Ciri, or that your association with witchers, with me, had ruined you. I panicked, I don’t even know what I said to you, and then you were gone and the others were all attacking me. I knew I deserved it all, and I still do. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Jaskier, I really don’t, but I couldn’t stand seeing you acting as if I was right and that you were a monster.” 

Geralt looked up at Jaskier, staring into his eyes as he finished. Both of them had tears shining in their eyes, pain echoing between them. 

“I am sorry, Jaskier, I truly am.” 


	54. You stole the best years of my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier responds to Geralt's apology.

Jaskier sat frozen for a moment, staring into Geralt’s eyes and trying to evaluate how sincere the apology was. It certainly pulled on his heartstrings and made him want to jump into his arms and hold him close. But there was a little voice in the back of his head that screamed warnings at him. Could he allow himself to get close to Geralt again, to give him the power to destroy him one more time? He didn’t know if he could handle that again, the absolute crushing feeling of knowing that the person you had trusted with every part of you had thrown it all away. 

Geralt seemed terrified by the silence, scared that the man with so many words seemed to have none at this one moment. He was searching his face like he would find the answers he wanted written in the lines of his face. Jaskier didn’t know what the witcher found there, because the man rocked back in his seat with a confused look. 

“I want to accept your apology, Geralt, I really do,” Jaskeir began in a timid voice. He was still choosing his words closely as he spoke, watching the way the other man reacted to each word. “But you have to understand why I am wary. I have given you decades of my life, and you threw them back in my face, hell you made it seem like I was the most horrific person in all the Continent. And then when I was trying to move past it, trying to find a new way that we could interact, you accused me of being a threat to all those I love. I don’t have many people in this world, Geralt, and I would protect them with my last breath. To be called a threat to Ciri, the girl that I almost died trying to protect, I have never felt more like the monster you called me than in that moment. I may not be completely human, but I am no monster, Geralt.” 

Geralt nodded at his words. “I know, Jaskier. You were never the monster here.”

Jaskier held up his hand at him, stopping him before he could keep talking. “I listened to you, now do me the favour of listening to me.” Geralt nodded again and pressed his lips together as if he feared his mouth would run away from him. Jaskier suppressed a smirk at this, the witcher was never verbose at the best of times, to see him so afraid of his words was ironic at the very least. 

“I am willing to move forward, to be friendly and amicable in front of the others and see where that takes us, but I can’t just go back to the way that we were before. You crushed me, if I hadn’t found Lambert and the others I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me, especially when my glamour wore off and I realised I was not the boring human I had always been. I can’t risk that again. I’ve built a new life for myself, found people who care for me and respect me and learned to care for myself in a way that I never had before. I won’t risk that. Not even for what we had before that mountain top.” The bard found his voice raising as he spoke, almost shaking with the tears he refused to let fall. 

“Can I speak now?” Geralt asked quietly when Jaskier paused, panting slightly with all the emotion it had stirred up. When the bard nodded softly, he said softly, “I don’t want to ruin anything. I see now that I should never have tried to keep you away from me to try and keep you safe. You were always one of the strongest people that I knew, someone who could deal with anything that life threw at him without losing your smile. I will take whatever you are willing to give me, and I fully accept the consequences if I mess up. I am sure that my brothers would kill me if I managed to ruin this again, hell Yennefer and Ciri gave it a good try anyway.” 

Jaskier snickered at the fear that glinted in Geralt’s eyes at the thought. “They are rather protective, aren’t they. But it isn’t them you should be worried about if you screw this up again, Geralt. I am more than capable of making you regret it if I need to. After all, I think I am the only one here who is able to liquise brains with the power of my voice, well, Ciri might be able to but I need to get her to show me exactly what she is capable of before we start working on refining her powers in that regard.” 

“Please no, it’s hard enough trying to make sure she is as well adjusted as I can make her without you teaching her to be even more dangerous. How the hell am I meant to raise a princess, Jaskier?” The beseeching look in Geralt’s eyes broke the last of Jaskier’s reserves. He couldn’t help it, the poor man looked so overwhelmed with the prospect of trying to get the young girl he found himself in charge of through her adolescence safely. 

Jaskier laughed aloud at him. “The first thing you can do is to stop treating her like a princess. She’s a thirteen year old girl who has lost most of her family, what she needs is to feel like she is part of a family again while also not making her feel like you are trying to replace the one she has lost. You need to find your own way to connect with her, and currently it seems like she wants to learn how to protect herself. The poor dear has awful nightmares about what happened when Cintra fell and she seems to be throwing herself towards anything that will prevent her feeling vulnerable again.” 

Geralt blinked at him in shock. “How the hell did you figure all of this out in a few weeks?” 

“It is kind of my job, Geralt. I have to be able to read a room and figure out what people need to make them happy and keep them feeling secure. Plus, I have had the benefit of being around people a lot more than you, given that you move through any villages as fast as you can while I tend to hang around and enjoy the finer things in life on occasion.” 

Geralt grunted at him and Jaskier couldn’t stop the peal of laughter that escaped him. “And there is the witcher that I know. I was wondering where all of these words were coming from,” he teased gently, ready to try and find some happy middle ground. He knew that the others would probably keep giving Geralt shit for a while, so he would need to find a way to balance that with whatever new relationship they were building. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled, a pleased glint in his eye. 

“Ohm hush you. You were the one that came up here apologising, you know you missed all of my sass. Now stop your whining and come here. I think there are some books on witchery things you can read in here somewhere, and you can be my sounding board. I was planning on writing something for Vesemir, something about the Alpha of the keep or some other title I come up with and you can help me.” 

Geralt grumbled as he moved to sit at the bard’s feet, ignoring the books around him to pull a whetstone and dagger from somewhere on his person and start working on the blade. 

“Well, I can see where Ciri gets it from then. Where the hell do you people hide all these bloody knives?” Jaskier shook his head in disbelief and started stumming at his lute gently. Geralt poked at his leg in protest but didn’t argue, settling in and seeming to almost fall into a meditative state as he worked his weapon. 

Jaskier grinned to himself. “Maybe I need to include something about the sound of the whetstone as a symbol of home. No, need something with a bit more substance there, maybe some sibilance or something to give the effect. Hmm.” He pulled a notebook from his pocket, ignoring the way that Geralt raised an eyebrow accusingly at that, and began scribbling notes. Of course Vesemir would be the hardest to sing about, the man was a bloody enigma. 

He could feel words spinning in his hair, the urge to write once more about the white wolf and his adventures like he had for so many years, but he pushed them back and tried to focus on the task at hand. He would sing of the witcher again, at some point, but it was still too fresh and painful in his mind. Jaskier couldn’t trust himself to keep his emotions out of his songs and he wasn’t willing to put his heart on his sleeve in that way. Not yet. He would have to see if Geralt deserved his trust in that way. 


	55. The conviction to look at me straight and say yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others find Jaskier and Geralt

They only had a few moments of quiet together before they could hear people thundering up the stairs. 

“Where the fuck is he? If he fucking hurts him...” Geralt and Jaskier both straightened up as they heard Lambert swearing his way up the stairs and doors being slammed open as they went. 

“Should we try and hide?” Jaskier joked, the side of his mouth quirking up in amusement as he heard Yennefer’s voice join in with all the swearing and panicking. Eskel could be heard trying to reason with them both and Ciri’s piping tones were egging them on, so the whirlwind would most likely be upon them soon. 

Geralt humed in indecision. “Do you really think we would be able to get away?” he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement and a small amount of fear. Jaskier went to reply but was interrupted by the door being flung open and Ciri yelling “Found them” as she jumped into Geralt’s arms. He managed to catch her before she smacked her head into the chair and pulled her into a hug, the knife he had been sharpening suddenly back in whatever pocket it had come from. How the hell these witchers did this, Jaskier would never know. 

“Are you being nice in here? Or do I have to stab someone?” she asked in a cheeky tone. She poked at Geralt’s face, grinning at him as her quick eyes catalogued the way that Geralt seemed more settled and comfortable than he had been in weeks. Jaskier knew their little princess saw far more than she let on, but Geralt seemed to take her at face value and he wasn’t going to burst the poor man’s bubble. Let him think he had a sweet, innocent little girl to raise, he would make sure that Ciri learnt to be sneaky and well informed, he was a spy after all. 

“Yes, your royal highness, everything is under control. I thought you were working on your swordwork today?” Jaskier reached over to start playing with her hair, with her nestled in Geralt’s lap where he sat at Jaskier’s feet he had easy access to her hair and decided to make the most of it. 

Yennefer came flying into the room with Lambert and Eskel fighting each other to get through the door. “Who the fuck let him be alone with Jaskier? Who was on bard watch today while I was busy with Vesemir?” Yennefer snarled as she almost tripped over Geralt where he sat on the floor in her haste to get to Jaskier. She ended up half on the window seat with him, looming over him while her hands flitted nervously over his skin to check for wounds. Lambert and Eskel seemed to decide it would be the best move to stand over Geralt and scowl down at him, ignoring the mischievous little wave Ciri gave them both. 

“Excuse me, hello to you too, Yennefer,” Jaskier said sarcastically, batting her hands away and bodily moving her so that she was sitting next to him rather than making him feel like a naughty little child. “I don’t need a bloody minder, I have told the three of you several times already. We were just enjoying the peace and quiet for a moment, but I guess that’s done for the day now that you lot are here.” 

“What the fuck did you say to him?” Lambert snarled, kicking lightly (for a witcher) at Geralt’s leg. 

Jaskier was getting fed up with their drama really fast today. He was meant to be the drama queen, that was his prerogative as the resident artistic type. “Oh for fucks sake, tone it down you assholes. I know you all think you’re bloody guard dogs or some shit, but there is no call for you to be so vicious. Geralt and I had a chat and we are willing to move forward, so you can all calm the hell down.” 

Geralt nodded in agreement and didn’t flinch as three sets of eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. Ciri made a small amused sound in her throat and pulled Jaskier’s hands back to her hair, grinning when he started absentmindedly braiding it into a little crown. She was getting a little demanding with the attention, but he didn’t have the energy to get into that right now. That could be Geralt’s problem provided he lived through the witch hunt that was to come. 

“So, are you trying to tell us that our idiot brother actually pulled his head out of his ass and apologised? With actual words and everything? Are you sure it’s him and not a doppler?” Eskel eases himself into a seat as he questions the other witcher, elbowing Lambert to get him to join him when the other witcher goes to just stand there and keep looming. 

Geralt scowls and Jaskier doesn’t mourn the loss of the happier, more relaxed look he had had in his eyes up until then (and the look that Yennefer throws him at the disgruntled little noise he makes is not at all necessary.) “What I said to Jaskier is between him and me, not you two idiots. Butt out.” 

Lambert snorts at him in disgust. “Jaskier, you can’t seriously be forgiving him for all the shit he’s pulled. I bet he didn’t even apologise properly, with pretty words and all that stuff like you taught Eskel and me.” 

Jaskier tried not to laugh at the expression on his two dark haired pups faces. “If, and this is a pretty big if, but if I decide that I want to forgive him, then that is my choice, not yours.” He waved a hand in the air to stop the immediate protests that spring to the mouths of the three other adults in the room. He can almost feel the smug satisfaction radiating off of Ciri and he tugs at her hair gently in reprimand. “However, and I am only telling you this because I can see that you are clearly worried for me and I don’t want to spend the rest of the winter with you three stuck to me like that time I tried the thing with the noblewoman, the honey, and the feathers, Geralt and I have agreed to put what has happened behind us and to see if we can be friends or at least cohabitate in a friendly manner now that we have gotten a few things off of our chests. And I don’t want any of you trying to get in the middle of it all, do you hear me?” 

Lambert and Eskel nodded with mutinous expressions on their faces, clearly unhappy with the decision but knowing better than to try and argue with the bard when he was in this mood. He turned his gaze on Yennefer, a beseeching light entering his eyes when he saw the vicious look on her face. She glared back at him for a moment before she softened. 

“You have no idea how incredibly lucky you are,” she said in a soft, dangerous voice. Geralt was watching her intently, an arm around Ciri as if he was prepared to throw her out of the way if Yennefer went to attack him. “You seem to have more lives than a cat when it comes to this. If Jaskier thinks that you are going to treat him like he deserves, then I won’t stand in the way. The gods know that I would never deny him anything, not after what he has done to me.” She paused to shoot Jaskier a grateful look and he could almost feel the curiosity rising off of Geralt like a miasma. “But if you put one toe out of line, if I have to comfort him even once because you have opened your fat fucking mouth and made him cry, I will not hesitate to end you. Jaskier is all that is good and bright in this shit storm of a life we all live, and I will not tolerate you trying to hurt him out of one of your stupid plans.”

Geralt held her gaze steadily for a few moments before he replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Yen. I’m glad that you found someone who could make you happy. We both know that we would never have done that for each other. Maybe now that we are both in a better place, we can see if we ever had any friendship under all of that Destiny crap.” 

Yennefer seemed to tighten back up, her body becoming rigid and her mask of cruelty slipping right back into place. Jaskier winced, knowing that his kitten was baring her claws again in a bid to hide whatever emotion she was feeling. “You were an amusement, Geralt, nothing more. We both know that without that whole issue with the Djinn, we would never have bothered with each other.” 

Jaskier could have sworn at the way he watched Geralt’s walls coming flying back up, his face settling into the nasty smirk he tended to use around angry villagers and rude nobles. “My apologies, I forgot that you were only interested in taking advantage of others through magic. I should have known better than to expect actual feelings from the great sorceress Yennefer of Vengerburg.” 

“Alright, children, pack it in. I’m not in the mood to deal with you both sniping at each other,” Jaskier interrupted as Yennefer puffed up and prepared to spit out another scathing comment. Eskel and Lambert were watching in fascination, seemingly entertained to watch Yennefer unleash all of her frustration on someone that was not them. Both Yennefer and Geralt turned grumpy expressions to Jaskier when Vesemir pushed the door open and scowled at them all. 

“They were meant to make up so that some of us could get some fucking peace and quiet this winter, not so you two could start bickering like a pair of children. If you are all quite done lazing around, I want you three pups to get to work hauling all the firewood in. That storm is heading in fast, we need to be prepared to be snowed in. Yennefer, Ciri, and Jaskier, you get the lucky job of making sure that the hallway to the stables is going to hold up with the snow, wouldn’t want the horses to starve and freeze because we can’t get to them. Now get to work, if I have to put up with your shit all winter you can at least help out.” 

They all groaned, looking around as if there would be some way they could escape their fate. Vesemir grinned in satisfaction at them and Jaskier mentally cursed the scheming older witcher. He was sure that he had planned all of this to give them some time together. What other plots did he have in that head of his? 


	56. Watch them dance out the plays that we wrote from the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier tells a story.

Clearing a path to the horses ended with Yennefer using it as an excuse to see how well Jaskier could manipulate water in other forms while Ciri watched and critiqued. He was glad that they both found it so amusing to put him to work, and his complaints to Vesemir seemed to go unheard as the man just congratulated them on getting their job done in record time. The fossegrim sighed and tried to resign himself for being the general snow-mover for the rest of the bloody winter. 

All jobs managed to get done before the storm came blowing in that night. Jaskier helped Ciri to reassemble the pillow fort from before (after blackmailing Yennefer into adding her magic to the mix) and they all huddled up for the night while the wind howled around the keep. They had boarded up most of the windows to prevent the snow coming inside, and with the fire roaring they had made quite a warm, cosy little place to wait out the storm. 

Eskel and Lambert were put onto dinner duty that night, so the others curled up in the pillows to keep warm. If Jaskier ended up almost in Geralt’s lap, it wasn’t his fault. Ciri seemed to keep wriggling around and forcing them all to bunch up to get out of the way of her flailing elbows and knees, and somehow Jaskier kept being the one who had to retreat further and further until he could feel the heat radiating from the witcher as he brooded in the corner. 

Yennefer narrowed her eyes at them and went to say something, but Vesemir quickly pulled her into a conversation about some of the magical texts he had found in the library that she might like to read with a conspiratorial grin to the little princess who then turned to face her prey. 

“Now that you two are friends again, can you tell me stories about when you used to travel together? Geralt can’t tell stories like you do, Jaskier, but it always made you look sad when I asked you.” 

Jaskier sighed and looked at Geralt for permission. When Geralt hummed in agreement, the bard turned back to his little cub with a grin. “Of course, sweetheart, what would you like to hear about?” 

Ciri beamed and bounced in place before scurrying up to Geralt and flinging herself into his lap. She pulled his hands to her hair, clearly wanting her to play with it while Jaskier told her a story. The witcher looked at Jaskier in fear and confusion, but when the bard mimed patting her hair he had to hide a smile as he saw Geralt start patting her like she was a skittish horse. Ciri hummed in contentment, snuggling into his hold like a house cat, and Geralt’s large hands started carding through her hair more confidently, strands catching on all of his calluses. 

“I want to hear about the time you both met. I know you wrote the song about your first hunt together, but how did you meet before that?” 

Jaskier chuckled to himself. “You’re right, of course. We actually met in a little inn in Posada. I was in there, minding my own business and singing a few songs to get some coin... “ 

Jaskier was interrupted by Geralt’s snort of amusement. “You sure as hell weren’t earning any. If I remember correctly, you were having food thrown at you and were being told to fuck off.” 

Jaskier scowled dramatically at him. “I was doing that for a reason, you beast. I hadn’t been able to get a lot of coin the last few weeks before that and Posada wasn’t exactly going to be able to pay terribly well. Sometimes singing some really shit songs was the best way to make sure I had food to eat that night. And then the innkeeps would sometimes feel bad for you and would let you sleep in the stables for free, so it was a genius plan all around. Anyway, I was singing a bit and looked over to see this tall, dark figure sitting in the corner of the inn, looming in the shadows like some hero of legend with his two gigantic swords resting against the wall beside him. I wasn’t going to let the most interesting looking man within a few day’s travel go without getting some stories from him, so I went over and introduced myself. He was rude to me, of course.” 

“You had fucking bread in your pants. I was just trying to enjoy a drink before I moved on and this bloody idiot with food literally in his pants starts trying to be all suave,” Geralt interrupted. Ciri giggled at their bickering, patting at Geralt’s leg soothingly. 

“As I was saying, the big asshole was being all broody and dramatic, so he went to leave without me. They offered him a contract as he was leaving, the idiots thought that a devil was stealing their crops and all of that superstitious nonsense. There was no way I was letting a story like that get away, so I followed him and offered to be his barker. Mister Grumpy-Guts here punched me in my stomach for my troubles and told me he didn’t want me around.” 

Ciri scowled up at Geralt at that, an expression scarily like the one he wore at the memory of their first meeting. Jaskier did his best not to coo over their identical expressions, but how was a man to resist. They both turned those frowns on him and he had to stifle his laughter at it. 

“So, of course, I kept following him. There was no way in hell I was letting a huge adventure like that happen without seeing it all. I mean, I am one of the best bards in the whole bloody Continent,” 

“And so humble too,” Geralt teased.

“And I knew that I would be able to make some amazing songs from whatever adventure befell us. I wasn’t going to let this asshole out of my sight if I could help it.” 

Eskel and Lambert interrupted their story with the arrival of some food. They had bowls of stew and hunks of bread to eat, and they quickly handed them around and joined the others in the pillow fort. 

“Were we getting a Jaskier story?” Eskel asked, trying to sound all nonchalant. 

Jaskier smiled gently at him. “I was just telling Ciri about how Geralt and I met. I was just about to tell her about our first hunt, the one I based  _ Toss a Coin _ on, but now I have some delicious stew to eat.” He chuckled at the annoyed groans the others gave. “I suppose I could be persuaded to keep going, as long as one of you promises to reheat my food for me.” 

Eskle nodded eagerly so Jaskeir cleared his throat, placed his stew to the side and continued his story. “So we went up into the mountains, to the very edge of the world it felt like. It was in the middle of Dol Blathanna, a beautiful seemingly untouched wilderness where you expected to see magic at every turn. However, we were quickly accosted by a rather rude creature with horns who attacked us viciously with a slingshot. I tried valiantly to defend Geralt,” he ignored Geralt’s snort of derision,”but was rendered unconscious. When I awoke, we had been taken prisoner by the creature, a sylvan, and some elves that were hiding out in the mountains to avoid the humans. They were rather angry about us finding them, worried that if the humans heard about them then they would be chased away from one of the few places they felt they had left to them. I managed to talk them out of their original plan, which was to brutally murder us both to ensure our silence, and we were released. I even managed to secure my amazingly sexy little lute from the king of the elves Filavandrel, something no other bard has, fucking Valdo Marx and his shitty badly kept instruments can suck it." 

Vesemir grunted at him in confusion. “Your song implied that you had killed the elves and the sylvan.” 

Jaskier blushed a little. “Well, yes. I had a bit of a chat with Filavandrel, you see. Thought it might help them to stay safer, you know, if the world thought that they had been defeated and wiped out. Might give them some breathing space to take care of their ill and grow stronger before they are attacked again.” 

Geralt grunted at him in surprise. “I thought respect doesn’t make history. Wasn’t that the shit you told me when you came up with that bloody song?”

“Geralt, that doesn’t mean that I just made it up to make you sound even more ferocious than you are or to make the rhyme scheme work. This song has gone all over the Continent at this point, so now everyone knows that there is no point looking for elves in Dol Blathanna since the White Wolf went and killed the last of them. You told them that they needed to get stronger so that they could defend themselves, I just wanted to help give them the time to do so. Now can I eat my dinner, or are there more questions from my adoring fans?” 

Ciri nodded decisively. “It was a good story. Eskel, you can warm his food now.” 

After muttering his thanks to the little tyrant who had decided that he was now permitted to eat his own bloody dinner, Jaskier turned to look at the others. Yennefer was looking at him with a curious glint in her eyes while Lambert and Eskel looked proud as could be. “What the hell is up with you?” he asked through a mouthful of bread and stew. 

Yennefer shot him her sharp, wicked grin. “It’s good to see that you can actually put that head of yours to better use than just coming up with bawdy songs to please the masses. You have always known the power of your words and your voice, it’s good to see you so willing to embrace it.” 

Jaskier snorted at her around his mouthful of food and turned to see Geralt watching him, eyes seeming almost fond as they gleamed in the light of the fire. He fought the blood rising to his cheeks as Ciri smirked knowingly at him. How the hell did she know what that look from her father figure did to him? 


	57. Forever asking more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier thinks about how the winter is going.

The next few weeks passed in a daze. Sure they weren’t perfect, but they were a damn sight better than what Jaskier had been expecting. With the onset of the storm, they spent most of their time in the great hall, huddled up to the fire for warmth and spending their nights in one large pile in the pillow fort. Jaskier more often than not woke to find himself held in Geralt’s arms and every time he had to fight back his stupid heart and the way it wanted to sing in his chest like a bloody nightingale. 

The others were still wary of Geralt. Yennefer kept glaring at him and he was fairly sure that she was occasionally using her magic to shock him if he got too close to Jaskier. He had seen the man wince a few times as he handed something to the bard or had sat too close for the mage’s liking, but the bull headed idiot just grunted, glared back at her and continued on with what he was doing. Lambert and Eskel were less subtle about it all. 

Eskel had taken to literally picking Jaskier up and pulling him into his lap if he was concerned about the bard being too close to Geralt. The way the idiot boys growled and fought over him was leaving him feeling a bit like a toy being pulled between jealous children, but he knew that none of it was meant maliciously and he hoped they would stop before they accidentally pulled him apart. Lambert took the opposite approach, leaping on Geralt in what he deemed a play fight if he thought that the other witcher’s hums and grunts had in any way upset his bard. Given that they were all living in such close confines, this tended to end up with Jaskier getting tumbled into by the stupid witchers and scolding the pair of them like an unimpressed parent. 

Ciri and Vesemir seemed to be the only ones willing to give Geralt a chance. Of course, Ciri was doing this with the excitement of a small child who had decided that two of the adults around her were about to reenact some kind of grand romance and she just wanted to help it along. She frequently tried to engineer situations where the two of them had to be together, the most obvious being when she asked Jaskier to go and get a book from the library to read to her that night, decided that Geralt had to go to and make sure that Jaskier chose a good book with lots of fighting in it and not anything soppy, and then proceeded to barricade them into the room so that they were stuck in there together for a few hours before the others found them. The girl was a menace and she was doing Jaskier’s heart no favours. 

He knew that he should be taking this all slowly. The little voice in the back of his head kept reminding him how easily Geralt had crushed him twice before and that there was no real reason to expect him not to do it a third time. The little voice in his head was drowned out by all of the little smirks he saw dancing on Geralt’s face when he saw Jaskier parading around dramatically, by the way the man softened when he was with his new daughter and took so much care to make her smile, by the way that Geralt accepted the suspicion and distrust of the others without complaint and refused to let it scare him away from Jaskier.

Jaskier was getting dangerously close to letting the love that he felt for Geralt overtake him and he had a sinking feeling that if it all went wrong then he may not survive this time. His friends seemed worried about him, watching cautiously as he fought back a grin at the white haired witcher’s actions and sang more and more sappy love songs to Ciri’s protested delight. He could feel the impending heartache looming over him, but he was far too much of a lovestruck fool to stop himself. He resigned himself to the fact that at least loving and losing Geralt once and for all would be the most exquisitely painful thing that ever happened to him and that he would be able to get one hell of a song out of it, one that would bring in enough money for him to drink himself senseless every day to try and pretend that it never actually happened to him. 

He was also worried that Yennefer was reading his mind on and off to keep a track of how he was feeling, as he noticed her staring at him worriedly a few times. She kept trying to get him alone so that he could talk, but there was no way in hell that Jaskier was letting that conversation happen. He was happy in his little pretend world where there would be no possible consequences for allowing his heart to be broken into a million tiny pieces and no well meaning sorceress would be allowed to burst that particular bubble. 

Thankfully, he still needed a fair amount of time in the water, so he was able to slip away from the others every few days with the claim that he needed a good soak. No one else was willing to leave the great hall more than was needed, the cold seeping into the keep no matter how much they tried to keep it out, so he was able to run down to the room and slip into the heat of the water and be alone for a few hours to think. 

It also gave him a space where he could sing as many ridiculous songs as he wanted about what he imagined being loved by the witcher would be like. He felt like a blushing young maiden planning her wedding day, but he couldn’t help himself. He had all of these images in his head of life on the road with Geralt again, only this time there would be gentle embraces, longing glances that were returned rather than met with confusion, and possibly even what Jaskier imagined would be the most amazing sex in all of the Continent (something that had him blushing horrifically every time he looked at said witcher for hours after he even thought about it.) And then they would be able to meet up with the others and all travel together like the happy family he wished they would all be. 

Jaskier knew that his dreams were getting more and more ridiculous when he started picturing them all getting a little cottage somewhere nice and warm where he could plant beautifully scented flowers, write his memoirs, and love the witchers who would travel out from his little cottage to work on the path and then return to him, his sorceress, and their little princess. It was a stupid dream, one that looking around the grim and dilapidated keep kept bringing to his mind as he thought about how hard it must be for these men to live in the same place where they had been put through such tortuous mutations and watched so many of their brothers and friends die in pain. He just wanted to give them all a place where they could be happy and relaxed, but he knew that they would never be content with some perfect little cottage and he doubted if he would either. But it made for a nice dream and he kept writing stupid songs about what it would all be like in his mythical fantasy land where Geralt loved him and they were all happy together. 

And if Vesemir started teasing him about the caterwauling he could hear every now and then if he had to go into the cellar for some more vodka to keep them warm, well then having all the blood in his body decide to live in his face was clearly the best thing and he never needed to show his face to anyone ever again. Vesemir was far too pleased with himself and all that was going on in his keep. He kept smirking at them all like he had some master plan that they would all discover in time and it made Jaskier nervous. At least Ciri’s scheming was obvious, he didn’t know what Vesemir was plotting. 

All in all, Jaskier was terrified that the happiness he had now would not last. He knew it was stupid of him to just ignore it all and keep pretending that it would all be fine, but hell, he was a bard. He was meant to be optimistic and positive and a hopeless romantic. There was no way he was going to face his problems head on when he could just live in a little fantasy world where he would get everything he ever wanted in his life. It was much better than this way, even if he knew it would all come tumbling down around him at some point. 


	58. And on the wind it howls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert picks a fight.

Jaskier should have expected that Lambert would have been the one to kick off all the arguing. The youngest witcher was so full of anger at the world and snarky comments that they really all should have been suspicious that he had been so mellow and easy going the last few weeks (well, easy going for Lamber, he was still attacking Geralt every time he thought he was being rude to Jaskier or if he was bored.) 

They had once again been in the pillowfort, several drinks into a late night chat while Ciri slept curled up in Yennefer’s lap. Jaskier had been entertaining them all with his song about the alpha and his pups, one that he had been working on for days and that brought a pleased smile to Vesemir’s usual stern face. The others had seemed rather pleased with the song, Geralt and Eskel both blushing softly at the way Jaskier painted Vesemir as a caring father figure who tried to prepare his pups for the harsh realities of the world, but Lambert was not so pleased. 

“So this one is a complete fucking lie then. Great, good to know all of our childhood pain and trauma is good for a catchy tune.” Lambert was red in the face, his voice soft and boiling with fury. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would offend anyone,” Jaskier said, immediately concerned and confused about how he could have judged this so terribly wrong. He had thought that they would all be pleased with the way they treated Vesemir like a parent and the older witcher frequently referred to them as his pups. 

“Lambert, now is not the time,” Geralt said, his voice stony. All of the witchers seemed to have thrown up every wall they had, glaring around at each other and refusing to let any emotion show on their faces besides anger. 

Jaskier panicked, not wanting this night to end in anger. “No, it’s completely fine. I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories for anyone, I just wanted to make a song that you would all like. I can change it, it’s fine.” 

“The song is fine,” Eskel interrupted, shooting Lambert a steely glare. “Lambert just needs to learn to live with the past. We can’t change it, so we might as well embrace what we have now.” 

“Easy enough for you two to say,” Lambert snarled. “You two have always had each other. I got to watch all of the other boys in my group die horrifically while you lot watched on. Did you know that Vesemir kept Sad Albert? Planning on ruining some more fucking lives, Vesemir? Maybe we should give Ciri a try, hm? Would that make you all feel better?” 

Geralt snarled at that while Yennefer clutched Ciri to her a little more protectively. Jaskier looked at them all in confusion. “Who’s Sad Albert?”

Vesemir sighed, looking down at his hands as if all the answers were kept there. “Sad Albert is a relic of a time long passed, something that I should have gotten rid of but couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was one of the tables we used to use during the Trial of the Grasses, the process through which a young boy would be turned into a witcher. It is something we will never do here again, we no longer have the mages or the knowledge for such a thing. And we would never subject Ciri to that, even if we had the option. With the magic in her blood, there would be no telling what would happen to her.” 

Geralt bared his teeth in anger at Lambert. “Fuckign drop it, Lambert. We were having a nice night and you’ve fucking ruined it.” Jaskier could see the memories clouding around all of the witchers, clearly there was a lot of pain and regret that was being dragged up and they were all reacting in the way they knew best: anger. 

“And I was having a nice fucking life before I got fucking taken to become a witcher. If that fucking witcher had just let my shitstain of a father die, then I would have been able to have a nice, pleasant, normal life. Instead, I get to spend my fucking winters in the same place where I was tortured as a child playing happy fucking families with one of the men who helped to turn me into a fucking monster.” 

Vesemir growled softly under his breath. “I know that this is not the life you wanted, Lambert, but do not try and blame all of this on me. We did what we thought was best for you boys, we tried to ensure that you would be able to deal with all of the crap that life would throw at you. If you want to hold onto all of your bitterness and anger, then that’s your decision. Don’t take it out of Jaskier for writing a song about what he has observed.” 

Lambert seemed like he was about to leap across the room and attack Vesemir. How the hell Ciri was managing to sleep through all of this Jaskier would never know. “Sorry for ruining the fucking imaginary world you live in where you were some great hero figure who saved all of us. We should have been fucking wiped out when the keep was attacked. Now we are just left over monsters with no fucking place in this world. Stop trying to make Jaskier believe that there was some kind of nobility to the shit you put us all through. We are the monsters that children should be scared of, not the heroes of some fucking ballad that Jaskier would sing in inns.” 

Eskel tried to pull Jaskier to him and was shrugged off. “Don’t listen to him, Jaskier. He gets like this when he drinks sometimes. Your songs have nothing to do with this.” 

“No, it’s fine. I should have thought about how you would all feel about me portraying you as heroes all the time. I should just stick to songs that others have written, that way I can’t upset anyone.”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier, don’t take it personally. Lambert is just a shit,” Geralt said, his voice harsh. 

“Well excuse me for not wanting to upset my friends, Geralt. If not singing about you all makes sure that Lambert isn’t having to relive painful memories, isn’t that the least I can do as his friend?”

Yennefer sighed, flicking her fingers to put a silencing charm up around Ciri. “Stop fucking arguing. Life is shit, Lambert, it has been shit for all of us and we need to find a way to deal with that shit. Complaining about the few things we have left that give us some joy isn’t going to fix a fucking thing. And Jaskier, you’re self sacrificing bullshit is getting old. Stop being a fucking doormat and stand up for yourself.” 

“Don't fucking talk to him like that,” Geralt snarled, glaring at Yenefer. 

“Oh, now you want to fight?” she scoffed at him. “Is now really the time to do this? You want an audience for this conversation?” 

“I want you to stop fucking pretending to be a perfect little princess and that you own Jaskier. You treat him like a fucking dog that you pull around on a lead, patting him on the head when he does what you want.” Geralt was fuming, ignoring the way that Lambert and Vesemir were now shouting at each other and Eskel had managed to pull Jaskier into his lap despite his struggling. “The lot of you are so fucking controlling of him, constantly trying to control where he goes and who he sees, telling him to sing you a pretty song and then telling him he’s a good boy for doing exactly what you said. It’s disgusting.” 

“Geralt,” Jaskier said in a low voice. “I suggest you stop fucking talking right now.” 

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, turning to stare imploringly into his eyes. “You don’t see how they are controlling you. They keep trying to make you into something you’re not and it’s not right.” 

“That’s right, Geralt,” Yennefer snickered. She ignored the glare that Jaskier sent her way, the wine flushing her cheeks and loosening her tongue. “Keep telling him how everything he is doing is wrong. That’s really going to help you get back in his good books. You’re just jealous that you're not the one who’s been getting songs written about them and getting to cuddle him every night. You have no idea just how close we have all gotten to Jaskier and it makes you sick to think about.” She bit her lip suggestively as she spoke, her cold eyes watching the witcher’s face carefully to eke every iota of pain out of this that she could. 

Jaskier sat and watched as they all devolved into a bickering mess, even Eskel starting to argue in defence of the bard. He let them continue for a few more moments before he took a deep breath and let out a high pitched scream, nodding curtly when they all shut up to clutch at their ears. 

“Right, if you lot are done fucking arguing. Honestly, you are pathetic drunks tonight. Stop going for each other’s throats and fucking talk to each other, you assholes. I’m not putting up with any of your shit tonight. The lot of you can enjoy your fucking evening. I’m going down to the hot springs and if I see even one of you assholes, I will be giving Ciri her lesson on how to explode heads. Sort your fucking shit out, people.” 

With that, Jaskier clambered out of the pillow fort as dramatically as he could and stalked out of the room. He didn’t even get out of the room before he could hear them all screaming at each other again. Thank the gods for silencing charms, at least Ciri would be able to get a good night’s sleep. 


	59. The waves made of fingers and the madness that lingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier hides in the baths.

Jaskier had fumed in the hot springs for several hours. Not long after he had stormed out and gotten himself settled in his favourite pool with lots of scented herbs thrown in to try and relax him, he heard his idiot witchers thumping down the hallway to come and see him. He managed to send them back away with a quick high pitched scream which had them crying out in pain and swearing as they retreated back down the hall. He heard Eskel and Lambert’s voices swearing in particular, with Yennefer shouting down the hallway that they would never get near him if he didn’t want them to. Thankfully they all then retreated back down the hallway and left him to his musing. 

Grumbling to himself under his breath, he wet a face cloth and draped it over his eyes. He had had far too much to drink to deal with this shit, they all had. They had been planning on having a nice, quiet night in before it all kicked off and had been drinking enough to float a battleship, as it seemed all witchers did when they had the opportunity. 

They all had valid points, Lambert in particular. He had been far too romantic in his portrayal of witchers, but he had just wanted to make them feel wanted and valued. He didn't want them to dwell on all of the awful things that had happened to them or give people another reason to look down on his poor little puppies. It must have been hard for them, though, to feel as if all of the trauma and pain that they had gone into was being swept under the rug and they were being expected to be happy heroes all of the time. 

Jaskier would have to take the time to talk to them about their childhoods, if they would let him, and write a eulogy to all those that they had lost. Maybe if he gave them a way to articulate the pain they all so clearly felt they would be able to begin grieving for the lost lives and opportunities in a more healthy way then the stoic ‘let’s pretend it never happened’ treatment they all seemed to be so adept at. 

The way that they all fought over him was worrying though. Geralt was right about the way they were trying to manage him. He was a fucking adult and did not have to justify his actions to them. He knew that they were just looking out for him, wanting to reassure him and make sure he knew just how much they cared for him, but they were stifling him. He was used to travelling on the road and having the freedom to do whatever he wanted. He could deal with the close proximity but not the constant monitoring and hovering. 

But Geralt had no right to call him a doormat. Yes, he allowed his friends to feel as if they were able to keep an eye on him and keep him safe from the big bad witcher, but he sure as hell wasn’t letting them work all over him. He frequently told them to piss off when he wanted a solo swim and wasn’t happy with the idea that Geralt saw him as some people pleasing idiot who had no say in his own life. He was a people pleaser, and proud of it, but he knew better than to let someone else dictate his life to him. 

With a growl, he quickly formed his water lute. It was quickly becoming a favourite way to vent all of his emotions and he grinned to himself viciously when the furious strumming and snarled lyrics had someone who had obviously been trying to sneak down the hall to see him swear and go stumbling back the way they came. They needed to learn to take him fucking seriously. Maybe he needed to get a bit more aggressive with the idiots. He tended to want to solve problems with words but he should have learnt by now that these knuckleheads tended to need a bit of violence to make a message stick. Not something that came naturally to the bard but hey, it might be good to get a bit more in touch with his inner fossegrim. 

He stewed in his anger for a few hours, enjoying the acoustics of the room and the way the warm water eased the tension in his shoulders. If they kept being shits, maybe he would just grab some food, create a little stockpile, and move down here out of the great hall. The others would all end up stinking after a few days if he didn’t allow them access to the springs, but at the moment he wasn’t inclined to feel bad for them. He had been having a great few weeks and they had ruined it, so excuse him if he wanted to be a bit petty. 

He was interrupted later by some hesitant footsteps coming towards the room. He took a breath, preparing to scream again, but was interrupted by a little voice saying, “Jaskier, it’s me, Ciri. Can I come in?” He couldn’t turn her away, his little lion cub had done nothing wrong so he called out to her to come on in. 

She came through the door hesitantly, looking for him amongst the steam and then putting her skinny arms around his neck for a hug, ignoring the way it soaked her tunic. “I woke up and you were gone. The others were arguing again, so I wanted to come and find you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart. You can always come and see me when the others are being silly. Close your eyes and let me grab some pants, then you can jump on in in your underclothes.” Ciri spun away from him and covered her eyes while he pulled his smallclothes on before tapping her on the shoulder. She shucked her clothes quickly and clambered into the spring, clinging to him as soon as she was in the water. 

“I had another bad dream and then when I woke up everyone was yelling and grumpy. I just wanted a hug but they were all so mad.” 

“My beautiful little cub, I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. The others were being silly but I thought they would be sensible enough to stop their arguing before you woke. I will have to tell them off for it later. For now, we can just enjoy the water. Did you want to tell me about your dream? Sometimes it can help make the bad dreams go away to talk about them.” 

Ciri hummed indecisively for a moment before she seemed to muster up her courage. She cuddled right into him, grabbing one of his hands to play with his fingers as she spoke. “I thought I was back in Cintra. The man with the bird on his head was chasing me again and I just had to keep running. But everywhere I ran, there was someone dying. Grandmother was leaning against a wall bleeding, Eist was there but he had arrows sticking out of him. There were people calling you a monster and chopping you up and Geralt was fighting so many men but he couldn’t win. There was nowhere I could run to that you weren’t dying and I couldn’t help you. I just had to run but the bird man wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

“Sweetheart,” Jaskier crooned, stroking at her hair with his free hand. His heart broke for her, knowing that she had gone through such a traumatic event and he hadn’t been able to be there for her. He had been so close but he had been too busy trying to keep the Nilfgaardians away from her to try and shield her from the brutalities of war. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. I know how awful it is to dream that the people you love are being hurt, but you know that all of us are far too annoying to be hurt. We are tougher than any bird man. Gods, I bet Geralt could make him run just with a little scowl, sour guts that he is.” 

Ciri giggled wetly into Jaskier’s neck. “This is why I came to find you, you always make the bad dreams go away. Everyone upstairs was too busy arguing to help me, so I had to come and find you. Whenever I’m with you, the bad dreams can’t get me.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, I will always be here for you when you have a bad dream. It means I get cuddles from my favourite girl in all of the Continent, so how could I say no to that?” 

Ciri smiled weakly and huddled into Jaskier tightly. “Can you sing to me? Make the bad dreams go away?” Jaskier couldn’t deny his little princess when she looked at him like that. There was nothing he wouldn’t give her to make her smile, especially when she had clearly been haunted by the ghosts of her past. All he wanted in that moment was to make his little cub happy again, make her roar with joy and laughter like she should. 

“What song would you like then, my little princess?” 

Ciri hummed, rubbing at the calluses on his fingers as she thought. “Sing the one about Geralt saving the princess, the one with the happy ending.” 

Jaskier grinned and cleared his voice. This is why he wrote such optimistic songs, this is why he focused on the heroism and the nobility of the witchers. There were people like Ciri all over the Continent who needed to be able to believe that there were good men out there who would be able to fight whatever monsters they encountered. He needed to give them something that they could believe in, that they could cling to when all the world around them seemed to turn to shit. This is why he wrote the songs he did, and he would never be able to stop writing them. He would just have to find a way to resolve it with his witchers. But that could wait, he had a princess to entertain. 


	60. I’ll yell it from the rooftops for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier comes out of the hot springs and speaks his mind.

Ciri could only handle soaking in the water for so long before her skin started pruning and she whined about being waterlogged. She decided that she needed to go off and grab some food to give herself a chance to dry out and see if the others were still arguing. He helped her to clamber out, her limbs gone noodly with all of the heat in the water and she quickly dried herself before wandering off down the hall. 

Jaskier sighed in disbelief as he heard the shouting start up again as she got further down the hall. Clearly, the idiots had realised that she had left the great hall and waited what they deemed a safe distance down the hall to see if she was with Jaskier. He grumbled to himself as he let himself sink to the bottom of the pool. Even having this distance for the last few hours hadn’t dampened the annoyance he felt at them. That they had ignored Ciri when she was clearly distressed from her nightmare only pissed him off more. The arguing and bickering were all to be expected from the knuckleheads that he stupidly allowed himself to care for, but to force Ciri to deal with her fear all by herself was a step too far. Once he decided that he had had enough of his sulking, he would have some choice words for them all. 

Ciri came trotting back into the room with her hands filled with bread. She tapped on the surface of the water and he surfaced to talk to her. “The others want to know if they are allowed to come and talk to you. They seem super scared of you, and Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert all look like they have been punching each other again. Why is it that boys always try and solve problems with their fists? It’s so stupid.” 

“Excuse me, your royal highness,” Jaskier protested with a dramatic hand to his heart. “I am also a boy and do not solve things with my fists.” 

Ciri rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, but you’re a bard so you have to solve all your problems with your words. That’s your job. All other boys are stupid and punchy and smelly, like Geralt always smells of onion.” 

“Well,” Jaskier chuckled, “I can’t really argue with that. Hang on for a moment, I’ll get out and we can go and deal with the stupid stinky boys and the crazy witch together.” Ciri grinned at him and hopped back, cramming her mouth full of bread while she waited for him to get dressed. “Come on, princess, let’s go and give them a piece of our minds, shall we?” 

Ciri grinned and jumped at him, scaling him quickly until she was perched on his shoulders. Jaskier winced at the hands and feet that kept stabbing into his stomach as she climbed up him. “Onward, noble steed,” she cried playfully. He laughed and pretended to buck her off, holding tight to her legs so she couldn’t fall even as she shrieked in joy. 

He staggered out of the room, exaggerating the impact of her weight on him to make her squeal and smack at him in between laughs. The three younger witchers were waiting at the end of the hallway for them and did a double take as they came towards them. 

“Jaskier,” Lambert started, looking just as remorseful as the others did. His knuckles were broken and bleeding, while Geralt had a fat lip and Eskel was sporting a beautiful bruise that was blooming on his cheek. 

Jaskier was spitting mad. How dare they all try and pull the pathetic puppy look on him.“Don’t you lot fucking start. Ciri, block your ears, there are going to be some adult words being said.” 

Ciri huffed from her perch and tapped him on the head in reprimand. “I grew up with Eist and Grandmother, I already know all the adult words. I just know how to express my emotions without them. So you can continue.” 

Jaskier scoffed at her response. His little lion cub sure had some bite to her when she wanted to. “Right, well, now that I have her royal highness’ blessing. What the fuck people? You were so caught up in your fighting and your stupid squabbling that you couldn’t notice Ciri having a nightmare? Or were you too busy punching each other out to comfort the child in the room dealing with her trauma then and there? You fucking whinge about how you wish that there had been someone there to make things better for you and then you do nothing to help someone going through that exact same thing. I am so fucking dissapointed in all of you.” 

Geralt looked floored by the idea of it all. “Ciri,” he said hesitantly, “I didn’t realise. You should have said something and then we could have helped somehow.” 

Ciri sniffed disdainfully at him. “The whole point of a nightmare is that it’s hard to wake up. I couldn’t tell you, I was asleep. Jaskier never needs me to tell him when I have a nightmare, he just gives me a hug and sings until I have good dreams again.” 

Jaskier refused to let the way his heart melted at her words show on his face. He was going to speak his mind to them and he was not going to let it go this time. “I understand that the three of you in particular have some deep seated issues that you need to resolve, but when we have a child,” he ignored the indignant voice from above protesting  _ not a child _ , “living with us, she needs to come first. Screaming at each other and beating each other up will not change anything that has happened to any of you, so you need to find a more productive way to work through your trauma. I am here for all of you if you need to talk about anything or just have someone to vent to, but I will not stand by and watch you devolve into taking cheap shots at each other and taking your anger out on me or Ciri when we are not the issue.”

Jaskier took a deep breath, all of his frustration coming out in his voice. He could feel the volume going up and up but couldn’t bring himself to care. Ciri had twisted her hands in his hair and was humming approvingly as he spoke, so he kept going with his little tirade. “If you have a problem with what I sing about, Lambert, come and talk to me about it rather than getting mad at all of us. I can’t change things if I don’t know that there is a problem. And if you assholes keep fighting over me like dogs with a fucking bone, I will not hesitate to put you all on your asses. I am done being the super nice Jaskier who puts up with all of your shit.”

Ekel, Lambert, and Geralt looked at each other in shock. None of them seemed to know how to respond to Jaskier’s outburst. The three of them probably weren’t expecting Jaskier to tell them exactly what he thought of them all like this. They were much more comfortable with the Jaskier that tried to keep the peace and keep everyone happy with his words and his antics, not the Jaskier who stood up for himself and told them to sort their shit out. 

Yennefer chuckled darkly from where she had appeared behind the three witchers. “There’s the Jaskier we know and love. You have been a bit of a bloody wet blanket recently. I’ve missed your attitude lately, you’ve been far too compliant.” 

Jaskier growled at her words, ignoring the way the witchers all winced at the exposed teeth and slightly unearthly tinge to his voice. “Don’t fucking try and play this off as some big fucking joke, Yennefer. You go on about how much you want to be a mother, you have a fucking opportunity here and now to look after Ciri with the rest of us and you let her down as much as the others did. You let fighting with Geralt over your fucking hurt feelings stop you from being there for her, so don’t act like you are above all of this. The four of you assholes need to be locked in a room somewhere to sort all your shit out, but I know that instead of fixing your issues you would all just beat the shit out of each other.” 

Yennefer narrowed her eyes at him, clearly gearing up for a scathing attack. Jaskier headed her off before she could start. “It’s not my place to pass judgement on any of you, but you all need to have a good long look at yourselves. You have the opportunity to be part of something important here. You have the chance to build the family you all miss so much right here and now in this keep, but you’re letting it pass you by because you are all too scared of opening up and dealing with your pasts. Now, Ciri and I are off to see if I can teach her how to play my lute, so you lot have some time to sort yourselves out. We will see you later tonight and for the love of all the gods, I expect there to be no fighting at dinner. One fucking meal without any of your shit, you hear me?” 

When the four of them nodded at Jaskier with varying degrees of acceptance, he tightened his grip on Ciri’s shins and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He managed to keep up a grumpy stalk until he was out of view before he deflated as his righteous fury left him. 

Ciri patted his head soothingly. “You did a good job, Jaskier. I think they need to have a little chat, then we can fix them all later.” 

Jaskier felt his heart crack a little more. “You don’t need to worry about fixing anything, sweetheart. They are grown ass adults and it’s not up for little princesses to make adults sort their shit out.” 

Ciri made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “We have to fix it though. If we don’t fix it, then everyone will leave and I won’t have anyone left anymore.” 

Jaskier pulled her down from his shoulders and into a tight hug, burying her face against his neck when he caught the sheen of tears in her emerald eyes. “No, no, my sweet little cub. I will never ever let you be all alone again. Everyone will figure it out and then we will be all nice and happy again, but I promise you that I will never let you be alone, even if it means I have to take you on the road and make you my dashing apprentice. I’ll teach you how to be the most amazing, ferocious little bardling princess and we can take the world by storm together writing songs about our amazing adventures. Sound good, sweetheart?” 

Ciri chuckled and nodded into his neck. He could hear her sniffing back tears and hated that his little cub had to learn to be so brave. “Well, we had better get started then. I love you, my little darling, but you can’t carry a tune for shit so we have lots of work to do.” 

Ciri grinned and growled at him, mock biting at his neck in retaliation. He smirked to himself, proud that he had chased away the last of her tears, and continued carrying her up the stairs. “I know that everyone has to start somewhere, but this will be a true test of all I learnt in Oxenfurt. The greatest trial the master bard Jaskier has ever accomplished, teaching his young bardling how to sing!” 


	61. And I’m so proud of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Ciri have a heart to heart.

“Ciri, sweetheart, perfect little princess, light of my life, I appreciate your creative process, but can we do a bit better than  _ boys stink and are really dumb, girls are beautiful in pink and much more fun _ ?” 

Ciri pouted at him. “But it’s all true, Jaskier, and you said I should sing my truth.”

Jaskier sighed and wiped a hand down his face in exhaustion. “Yes, you are correct in that those are the words that I said. But sometimes our truth needs to be slightly edited to make it more ... entertaining. I know that I said that maybe writing your own song would help you to connect with the music a bit more, but maybe we should find another way for you to connect with the music. I am sure we can find some songs that will suit your ... musical talents a bit more.” How the hell was he supposed to tell his little cub that she was night on tone deaf and it was a good thing she would never have to sing for her keep. Maybe he could teach her some epic poetry to rehearse, that might be a bit more her style. 

Ciri groaned and collapsed back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. “But I want to sing about how stupid all the boys are and how girls are super pretty when the sun hits their hair and its all shiny and they just look so cute.” 

Jaskier groaned and flopped onto the bed beside her. “You are thirteen, how am I the one out of everyone that is getting the  _ I like girls _ talk? Have you talked to any of the others about this?” 

Ciri turned to look at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Um, maybe. I mean, girls have always been much better than boys but I haven’t really talked to anyone about it. Should I have?” 

“Only if you want to, my adorable little lion cub. Girls are definitely pretty and can have really nice shiny hair. Some people like girls, some like boys, some like both, and some people aren’t interested. Everything is completely fine and I am always happy to talk about how pretty people are. If you’re going to talk about it with one of the witchers, let me know. It would be hilarious to watch them lose their minds over the thought that their innocent little princess is starting to think about who she likes.” 

Ciri gigged, cuddling up to him and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the one I can come to with the non violent stuff, just like Yennefer is the one who helps me with all my lady problems. If I tried to talk to Geralt about this he would make that stupid face he does where he looks like he needs to go to the bathroom really bad.” The pair of them chuckled at the thought, the image of Geralt’s confused and terrified face if Ciri confronted him with her burgeoning romantic feelings. 

“So what kind of pretty girl do you like, my ferocious little lion cub? I need all of the details so that I can help you find pretty girls when we all leave Kaer Morhen for the spring.” Jaskier poked her on the top of the nose and grinned at her. He loved his little lion cub and was glad that she was so easily distracted from any of her bad dreams or the arguments that she had heard going on in the keep. The others were giving them some space, finally, and hopefully when they went down for dinner everyone would be civil at least. 

“Um,” Ciri blushed even more. “There was a girl from Skellige, when I used to go there, and she was so good with an axe. I used to get Hjalmar to go ice skating with me so that I could watch her chop wood. He was nice too, he was so strong and he wouldn’t treat me like some of the other idiots did, like I was some doll that would break. We told his father we were engaged at one point. Grandmother was furious, said I was worth more than the son of some useless Skelligan man, which made Eist laugh. So not all boys are stinky and stupid, just the ones who think I can’t do things just because I’m a girl.” 

Jaksier smiled gently and cuddled her close to him. “Alright, so your type is strong and adventurous, I can appreciate that. No one should ever treat you like you aren’t the most capable princess I have ever seen. They should be lucky to have someone as perfect as you, my little lion cub.” The beatific grin she gave him in response made his heart melt. She would be magnificent when she was older and he was sure she would leave a trail of broken hearts up and down the Continent. He would have to look after her, make sure that she was treated right by whoever she decided to gift with her love. Then again, he would probably need to be the supportive one, given that she had four witchers and a sorceress who would be more than willing to intimidate any potential suitors and would most likely chase most of them away to try and protect their princess. 

“What about you, Jaskier? What’s your type beyond a big scary witcher with long white hair?” she asked cheekily. He growled at her, tickling her sides until she giggled. 

“You’re a nosy little cub, I’ll give you that. Ah, how to decide. I have to say, up until I met Geralt, I would have said that my type was everyone. There are so many beautiful people in the world Ciri, people with beautiful faces and bodies yes, but also people with beautiful smiles and beautiful minds. I once spent three weeks with a woman who had the most amazing laugh I had ever heard. She sounded like springtime when she was happy, like birds singing and bees humming and all the warmth of the sun rolled up into one noise. Then I spent two months with a man who has this fascinating mind. He remembered everything he had ever read and he would tell me all about different aspects of science and history and anything I could think to ask him about. People are fascinating, Ciri, and I love seeing the variety that is humanity. You can never predict it and it’s so exciting.” Jaskier was beaming, sighing dreamily as he thought about some of his past relationships.

“And then I met Geralt. The most selfless, heroic person I had ever seen. Adventure and drama seemed to hang about him like storm clouds and all I wanted was to be a part of whatever story he was caught up in. He’s so brooding and intense, when he stares at you it feels like you are the only one in the world that he sees, that all of that intensity and all of that power is just focused on you. It’s a heady feeling, and then to be able to make his life that little bit easier, to be able to eke a smile or a little chuckle out of him despite all of the shit that the world heaps on him. It’s enough to make anyone lose their heads a little. But you need to be smarter than me, Ciri, and not let your heart make a fool of you. If someone doesn’t treat you right, you do not owe them anything.” 

Ciri hummed and stroked his cheek, staring into his eyes with her bright emerald eyes swimming with emotion. “Geralt should be so grateful that you care about him. He doesn’t realise what he’s missing, Jaskier, but one day he will and then he will realise just what he could have had. You are the most amazing bard in all of the Continent and the nicest, most caring person that I know. You make everything brighter and keep the bad memories away. If Geralt is too stupid to see what’s right infront of his nose, then I am sure that there are plenty of people out there who would treat you exactly how you deserve.” 

Jaskier kissed her cheek to hide the way his eyes were welling up with tears. “Since when did you get so wise, my little lion cub. I thought I was meant to be the one who was good at emotions and all of that, not you.” 

Ciri pressed her forehead against his, smiling when she went cross eyed trying to keep staring into his eyes. “I have to be the smart one. All of you are complete disasters when it comes to talking about your feelings, so I guess I have to be the sensible one. You all should come to me to solve all your problems and then I can charge you all in sweets for my services. This sounds like the best idea ever.” 

“And then you would rot all your teeth with the amount of sweets you would get from us all. It’s much safer if we just keep you as our resident princess and bardling witcher in training.” Jaskier groaned and clambered up from the bed. “Come on, my little lion cub. We should probably go and sort something out for dinner. If we leave it to the others, we won’t be eating anything but our words tonight.” He reached out and pulled her to her feet. 

Ciri hugged him around the middle, whispering a soft “love you, Jaskier,” before tearing out of the room. “Race you to the kitchen!” she called back over her shoulder. His princess was so beautiful. The others had better sort their shit out and learn to appreciate what they had right in front of them. 


	62. Come on love, please don’t start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier decides to fix some problems.

They came down the stairs to find all three of the younger witchers and the sorceress sitting glumly in the great hall, looking like small children who had just been told the fair was cancelled. When Jaskier and Ciri came sprinting into the room, laughing breathlessly at each other, they all jumped to their feet and tried to yell their apologies over each other. The witchers kept shoving at each other, trying to be the ones that Jaskier was looking at, while Yennefer seemed to have power crackling off of her skin with all of her emotions. 

None of them seemed to notice as the smile slid from Jaskier’s face. He hadn’t been downstairs for two seconds and already they were squabbling and acting like children. He loved them all, he really did, but he could not deal with their shit right now. He did not have to be the one who always had to fix all of their drama, but unfortunately he would most likely have to. It’s not like these idiots had the emotional intelligence to solve their own problems (not that he was the master of fixing his problems but they didn’t need to know that.) 

Ciri stepped in front of them, easily silencing them with a glare worthy of her grandmother. She would be a fearsome queen if she ever decided to reclaim her throne. “Stop yelling. If you want to say something, you need to say it nicely and one at a time, not like a bunch of hooligans.” 

Jaskier tried to hide his smile at her tone. He was so proud of her, she clearly felt confident enough in herself and her position in the keep to challenge all of the adults and hold them to account despite her fears about what would happen if they couldn’t resolve all of their problems. 

“Ciri, sweetheart, why don’t you find Vesemir and get him to help you make dinner. I can deal with this lot for you and then we can all have a pleasant night tonight.” Ciri nodded decisely and made a quick  _ I’m watching you _ sign with her fingers at them all before striding off to find Vesemir with her head held high, humming her little song about pretty girls under her breath. 

Jaskier looked at his witchers and his mage. They all looked so woebegone, but he knew that if he gave them the opportunity they would get right back to screaming at each other. “Alright, everyone take a seat. We are going to talk about all of this calmly and rationally, with no screaming, insulting, or punching. Do you hear me?” The three witchers nodded in recognition and moved to take a spot in the pillow fort, clearly feeling the need for comfort during this conversation, but Yennefer puffed herself up defensively. 

“And just what gives you the right to dictate terms to all of us, bard?” she snarled, her face set in that sharp smile that made her look like a cat playing with a canary. Her wicked witch persona seemed to be firmly in place and Jaskier couldn’t say he had missed it. Whenever she felt even slightly threatened, her little kitty claws came out and she started snarling and hissing. If he thought his witchers were bad with their emotions, they had nothing on his sorceress. 

He sighed in resignation. It was clearly too much to ask for to have all of them in a sensible frame of mind and not out to make things difficult for them all. “Well, you can either join us and talk things out or continue to be a complete bitch. One option will result in you actually growing as a person and possibly finding a way to coexist with the others in this keep happily, hell maybe even getting a family like you say you want so much. The other is going to result in you pushing away the people who care for you and going back to the cold, vicious person you were before. I know that I would prefer it if you would come and talk this out with us, be a part of this family and think about how we can resolve any issues we have, but the choice is up to you. No one is going to force you here.” 

Yennefer stared at him, shock written all over her face. Jaskier heaved another heavy sigh and then turned his back on her and joined the others in the pillow fort. He listened carefully, hoping that she would take the olive branch he had extended to her and join them but when he didn’t hear her move for a moment he tried to fight back the little voice in his head that told him to go to her anyway, to tell her it didn’t matter and do anything to keep her in his life. He refused to be the doormat they accused him of being and if that meant that they all needed a bit of tough love, then Jaskier would have to learn just how to dish it out. 

He couldn’t fight the grin that spread over his face when after a few moments he heard her swear and follow after him, bitching under her breath about asshole bards and their demanding ways. The three sitting in the pillow fort looked slightly terrified by the smile on his face, something he was secretly proud of. Maybe they would be able to take him seriously if they stopped seeing him as some fragile little bard all the time. He waited until they were all settled in, the idiots refusing to bundle themselves up and get comfy in the same way that Jaskier did. They still hadn’t enough about the ancient art of pillow forts to realise that rule number one is to make yourself cosy and warm. 

“There was a lot of hurt and anger last night, and I think that we need to get some of it out in a constructive manner. Now, I know that all of you are emotionally repressed assholes who are allergic to talking about your feelings, but there is no way that we can all go on like this with all of you having this bottled up inside you. So, whatever is said in this pillow fort right now is not going any further than the five of us. This is a safe place and if anyone tries to violate this safe space, then I am fully capable of making you regret it, do you all understand me?” He glared at them until they nodded, none of them making eye contact with him. 

“Good. So, the way we are going to handle this is that each of you are going to go and write down what you want to say to the group. Think about any worries you have, anything that you think is a problem that we need to address, whatever. You don’t need to put your name to it. Then you are all going to put them into a box so no one knows who’s paper is who’s and I will read them randomly and we will talk it all over. That way no one is accusing anyone of anything and no one has to try and say something painful in front of the others without having a chance to get it all off of their chest first. Can you all do this for me?” 

The three witchers looked down at their hands and nodded placidly. His boys were honestly so docile and pliant. How people were scared of them he would never know. Yennefer looked like she was about to start a fight again but a quick glare from Jaksier and asking her to conjure some paper, quills, ink, and a box for them in a stern tone had her complying with a sulky expression. Once everyone had the tools they needed, they all fled from the room, leaving Jaskier to sprawl out in the pillow fort after placing the box just outside of the sheets where he couldn’t see it. 

Jaskier relaxed back into the cushions, singing the most calming, relaxing lullaby he could think of and letting his magic infuse his voice so that is spread throughout the keep. Hopefully it would help his puppies and his kitten to get all their emotions off of their chest without getting too worked up. If he could somehow avoid another yelling match he would be thrilled. 

He really hoped that this would be able to help his friends. All he wanted was to find a way to make sure that they were all happy and content, that they weren’t bottling up all of their emotions until they exploded in angry, violent messes that took it all out on the people that loved them. If he could get them to talk through some of their problems, then they could begin to move forward and heal. How the hell did Vesemir put up with them all for this long? His boys were a mess of emotions and trauma, and his kitten wasn’t much better. Then again, Vesemir probably thought he was just as bad, so maybe he should take his own advice. With that in mind, he grabbed some of the paper that had been left behind and started to write his own thoughts on how everyone had reacted down. 


	63. The wrinkles and bricks that we’re left with at last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier starts reading the letters.

Jaskier wrote more than he had expected on his piece of paper. He had thought that he would add a few words just to make sure that some of the main issues were getting aired even if his witchers and his mage decided to be less than forthcoming in their own writing, but once he started he found the words falling from him like leaves in autumn. He kept up his comforting song as he wrote, hoping that it would ease the pressure on all of them and make this successful. If this didn’t work, Jaskier didn’t know how he was going to try and fix this. 

After a decent amount of time had passed, he heard people slipping into the room and fidgeting with the box. His witchers shuffled into the pillow fort one by one, all looking at Jaskier and then keeping silent when they saw him writing. Yennefer was the last to join them, sighing dramatically when she saw Jaskier so occupied and flouncing her way to a cushion. He ignored her silent demand for attention, trying not to grin when she huffed in annoyance. 

Once Jaskier had finished what he wanted to write, he crawled out of the tent to the box and posted his own letter in. He brought the box back in with him and looked at the four of them. 

Yennefer was maintaining her bitchy witch persona, pretending to be more interested with her nails than anything they could possibly be doing. Geralt had reverted to that stoney mask he used when he was uncomfortable, while Lambert still seethed with anger. Eskel was looking around in hurt confusion, seemingly unsure as to how they had ended up in such an argument. 

“Yennefer, would you be able to make it so that the handwriting is unidentifiable but still legible?” Jaskier asked softly. Yennefer turned to him with what looked like another catty remark on her lips so he added, “I understand if that’s too hard for you. I shouldn’t have asked, wouldn’t want to make you feel bad.” She glared at him, clearly seeing how easily he manipulated her but also unwilling to let the challenge to her abilities go. With a quick muttered spell, she tapped the box and gestured for him to proceed. 

“Good, so, now that there is no way for me to know who wrote what letter, I’ll read them out. Some ground rules before we start. No interrupting until I’ve finished the letter, then everyone will get a chance to say what they think. No one needs to own up to writing the letter, just say what they think about what was written and then once we have heard all of the letters we can decide how we are going to go forward. Does everyone agree?” 

The witchers nodded mulishly. It took Jaskier glaring at Yennefer for her to give another dramatic sigh and nod, acting like she was a queen granting a peasants request. If she kept this shit up, Jaskier was going to lose his mind. 

Jaskier gave the papers a quick shuffle before grabbing one at random and clearing his throat. “Here we go then.” 

_ This letter writing thing is really stupid. It’s not like it’s going to change anything, but whatever. I might as well write what I think even though I know you assholes will never listen.  _

_ All of us feel like we drew the short straw in life, like Destiny has fucked us over and now we all just have to do whatever it takes to seize any bit of happiness we can. Some of us seem to cope more than others, but I think that all of us feel like some days it would just be easier to say a big fuck you to the world and just do what makes us happy rather than trying to help people.  _

_ But sometimes things are a little easier. When we are all getting along and it seems like we could actually have something, have some kind of life instead of the shit storm that we have had dumped on us, I start to think that maybe life could be alright sometimes.  _

_ There were a lot of things that have happened to us and bringing it up just makes everyone miserable. We all know the shit we went through, if not because we have lived it ourselves then because we have lived through something similar. And I get it, we all just want to move forward and pretend like those things never happened, but then it feels like we are ignoring all the people who came before us, who made us who we are. So many people died in the paths that made us the people that we are, and so many of them at our hands or at the hands of people we love. If we carry on with our lives like nothing happened, are we dishonouring what happened to them? But if we spend all our time thinking about what we have lost and what might have been, then how the hell are we meant to make the most of their sacrifices and their loss.  _

_ And some of us are acting like assholes because for once in our lives we have something good, something bright. We have laughter and hugs and all those positive emotions that we were told are not for people like us. It’s so easy to let that change us, to justify any actions by saying that I deserve this, that I should be able to have this small bit of happiness and damn the consequences. But then we act like assholes, because that’s all we have ever been allowed to be and we can see how it’s ruining it all, how it’s dimming that sunshine, but it just feels too good to have it for however briefly we are allowed.  _

_ Anyway. I don't know why I wrote all of this. It isn't like there is some easy way to fix all of this. This is just what happens to people like us. We get all the shit parts of life and when it looks like life is improving, that generally means that more shit is coming our way. The best we can do is to pretend that it’s fine, that nothing really hurts. Don’t show weakness, otherwise Destiny will fuck you over once again. I don’t know.  _

Jaskier took a deep breath when he finished, folding the paper carefully and placing it beside him on a cushion. He hadn’t expected them to be this articulate, he didn’t know why but the tears welling up in his eyes showed just how powerful they were. He had no idea who had written this letter, it could have been any of them really. But that was the point of this, hopefully it would help them to see just how similar they all were and how they needed to support each other instead of tearing each other apart. 

“Right, well. Does anyone want to speak first? Everyone will have a turn, but does anyone have anything in particular they want to add to this?” 

They all looked at each other awkwardly, clearly trying to see who would go first. 

“Alright then, I’ll go first and then Lambert can go next, then Eskel, Geralt, then Yennefer,” Jaskier decided. “Um, I thought that this letter was very true, for all of us. It does start to feel like Destiny is just fucking with us all, what with all of us having such shitty childhoods and now whenever it seems like there’s a new normal, something happens to ruin it all. And I think it’s a very fine line, how do we remember the people we have lost without allowing ourselves to get overwhelmed by all of the pain and sadness. I was thinking earlier, I know that my songs paint a very ... romanticised version of your lives. I wanted to write something, something that would give us a way to let some of the emotions we feel about those we lost out in a way that doesn’t result in anger or violence. So, yea. Those were my thoughts. Lambert?”

They all turned to look at Lambert. The witcher went red in the face, from anger or embarrassment Jaskier didn’t know. “Fuck, ok, well. Um, I agree. Life is pretty shit to us. Everyone fucking dies on us and then we get left to carry on with all of the shit. It might be nice, to have a way to think about what we lost. Sometimes, it feels like no one wants to think about it. About all of the other boys who died in the Trials or all the people we couldn’t save, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. I don't fucking know, what else do you want me to say?” 

Jaskier smiled gently at him. “That’s completely fine, Lambert. Thank you for sharing. Eskel, love?” 

“Well, I think Lambert has a good point. We have all lost so many friends, and in such horrific ways. It’s hard to find a way to remember them without it hurting. If we could have a way to do that, maybe it would get rid of some of the tension? It could help to make it all a little easier on us all and stop all the big blowouts.” 

“Fair point. Geralt, your turn.” 

“Hmm,” the witcher grunted. “Destiny is a bitch. We survived, we need to figure out how to deal with the shit we are left with and move forward, especially with Ciri. She deserves to know about the people who got us to where we are today, so a song might be good. Might set a good example to her, I know she’s having a tough time with what happened in Cintra.” 

“Very true. Ciri needs to come first, for all of us. If we can find a way to sort out some of these issues, then we would all be setting a good example for her too. Yennefer, your up.” 

Yennefer snarled cattily at him but the stern look he sent her had her deflating. “Fine. I guess you all have a point. None of us have had it easy. Lots of people have died and that changes us. It puts things in perspective. I know that I try to pretend that some things never happened, that I was never anything less than what I am now, but sometimes the past won’t let me. I ... I think I would like to have a way to look back on it all without wanting to scream or hurt someone.” 

Jaskier smiled at them all. They had done so well with this but he could see how vulnerable they all seemed, how they all looked a bit fragile and hurt. It might do them good to give them some time to process. 

“I am so glad that you are all taking this seriously. I think I hear Ciri on the stairs though and I assume that you all don’t want Ciri to overhear this. Should we leave it here for tonight and we can get Vesemir to look after her tomorrow evening as well and we can continue?” 

He grinned at the thankful nods he got and the speed at which they all climbed out of the pillow fort. Ciri came bouncing into the room babbling at top speed about how Vesemir had taught her how to make a new fish dish for dinner and Jaskier watched with a smile as the witchers all gravitated towards her, clearly wanting to leave the emotionally charged moment behind and focus on the present. Yennefer seemed a bit more hesitant, but Ciri’s enthusiasm and delight pulled her in until she was walking hand in hand with the young girl towards the table. Ciri turned and winked at Jaskier and he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. His little girl was so perfectly devious at times. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun trying to figure out whose letter is whose. I think that to do them justice, I might give them a chapter each. They might get a little repetitive, but I feel like they all deserve the space to voice their concerns and have them addressed. Hopefully you all enjoy.


	64. People just pretending to be brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next letter is read.

While Ciri harassed the witchers and Yennefer, Jaskier pulled Vesemir to the side to talk. 

“I’ve managed to get them to start opening up. They wrote these letters about what they need to talk about and are actually managing to talk about their feelings for once in their lives. I hate to be a pain, but are you able to keep entertaining Ciri in the evenings for a while and I can try to get them to talk through a lot of this shit?” 

Vesemir hummed in thought. “Letters you say? Well, I’m sure I can keep the girl entertained, I’m sure she would love it if we started some witcher training, even if it is just learning about the various beasties out there. I’m happy to do it, with one proviso.” 

Jaskier looked at him in confusion. “Of course, name it.” 

“I want to write a letter too. I’m sure you have figured out some way of keeping it all anonymous and I have a few things that I think they all need to hear. I can put it into the box once you lot are all done tonight, but there are some things they need to hear about.” Vesemir wouldn’t meet his eyes as he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. 

“Yes, that would be fantastic. I think they would all benefit from hearing a bit from another point of view, especially your pups. They all seem to be focused on the same issues, so having another perspective should help them.” Jaskier grinned, this would be perfect for them all. 

Vesemir huffed and then followed the others to the table for dinner. “I have six pups now, not just the three, and the lot of you are all as bad as each other.” 

Jaskier grabbed at his chest, staring in awe at the retreating figure as he was lost for words for a moment. Once he felt like his heart was beating properly again he skipped his way to the table, singing the happiest song he could think of. The others looked at him in confusion as he joined them at the table but no one questioned it. THey mostly looked overwhelmed by what they had been discussing in the pillow fort and Ciri was looking at them all sideways as she filled her plate. 

“Jaskier, you have to tell me if I’m a good cook. Vesemir said this is one of Geralt’s favourite meals, so I need to be able to make it really well for when we go back on the road.” Ciri shot him a wicked look and then beamed when she saw Geralt’s ears going pink as he focused on his food. 

“It’s fantastic,” Jaskier enthused as he started shoveling the fish into his mouth. “You’ve outdone yourself, Ciri.” 

Ciri grinned and started prattling on about how to cook the fish, carrying on a one sided conversation for the entirety of the meal before turning to Vesemir as soon as she saw that everyone was done eating. “Can you tell me a story tonight, Vesemir? I want to hear all about the trouble that Geralt, Eskel and Lambert got into as kids.” 

Vesemir chuckled and started leading Ciri away with a quick wink to Jaskier. He ignored the panicked looks on the other witcher’s faces and started telling her something about Geralt and Eskel and a bumblebee as he went. 

Jaskier smiled gently around the table at the others as he stood. “Shall we try one more letter while Ciri is distracted and then we can all curl up for the night in the pillow fort? I’m sure Ciri would love to have another snuggle session.” With a round of sighs the others followed him back into the pillow fort. Jaskier fought back the warm feeling in his chest when he saw then pulling more blankets around them this time. They clearly felt like they needed a bit more comforting this time around and he was so glad to see them finding a way to make this that little bit more tolerable. 

Jaskier gently pulled the box to him, setting aside the letter they had already read gently before giving the remaining letters a quick shuffle and choosing one at random. “Are we all right to begin?” 

“Sure, let’s get this over with,” Lambert grumbled. Jaskier shot him a disapproving look before starting. 

_ I don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s nothing I need to say. Everyone is mad as usual, but that’s just how life is. It isn’t like we should be surprised. When does anything ever go right for us. If something was going well, then we should be worried, but this is just how life is for people like us.  _

_ Maybe there’s something that we did wrong, to deserve all of the shit that’s happened to us. I can’t think of what we would have done to deserve this, especially since this has been happening to us all of our lives. Maybe that’s just how the world works. Everyone gets a lot of shit and some more so than others. We just need to learn to accept that.  _

_ Destiny just loves to fuck with us. I don’t understand it. Some of us don’t deserve the shit that we get, but how do we fix someone else’s life when our own is so shit. Sometimes I wonder why we even try, why we keep trying to help people out there, but then what else would we do? At least this way, we can feel like someone somewhere in the world is not having to deal with as much crap as the rest as us, like there is the possibility of things getting better at least for someone even if it is never for us. But no one ever appreciates what we do. We are the monsters, the outcasts, even worse than the monsters that plague people. People recoil from us even more than they do from the idea that they are being cursed, that there is a wraith killing their children, because if we are more powerful than the things that are ruining their lives, then we must be the true villains. _

_ At least when we are together, we can pretend that we aren’t some of the most hated people in the world. But then we all have so much shit from being out there in the world and we take it out on each other. I think it’s a way of trying to make ourselves feel a little better, to make it seem like at least if we are so unhappy then at least there are other people out there who are just as angry and hurt by this world. And it’s awful and makes us all feel even worse, but what else can we do. It’s not like any of us are going to get some magical happy ending like in songs or stories. All we can do is try and make sure others don’t go through the shit we do, that Ciri isn’t stuck in the same shit life that we have all had. I think that’s what I want, to see that Ciri can escape this. I don’t know if there’s any hope for us, but maybe we can make sure that she get’s the future she deserves.  _

There was a pause for a moment as they all looked at each other. 

“We need to do better, for Ciri,” Yennfer muttered. The men nodded solemnly at her words with the air of men taking on a solemn promise. “We need to show her that this world isn’t shit and that good things can happen to people.” 

“How the hell are we meant to do that when nothing good ever happens to us? Look at us Yen, Destiny’s bitches, one and all.” Lambert grumbled, looking despondently down at the cushion he held in his lap. 

“Well, I’m sure that way of thinking doesn’t help,” Eskel said quietly. “Good things have happened to us, we just need to focus on them more. I mean, we all met Jaskier and the man is nothing but sunshine.” 

Jaskier blushed horrifically when there was a round of murmured assent at that. “As charming as that is and you will all be getting hugs for being so sweet, other good things have happened to you. It doesn’t have to be world shatteringly amazing. You all had a delicious meal tonight, that’s a good thing. We have a safe, warm place to stay for the winter and that’s good. Geralt, what’s something positive that has happened to you recently?” 

Geralt grunted in discomfort. “Um,” he looked around desperately and when no one came to his rescue he grumbled something under his breath before replying “Ciri told me she loved me.” 

There were audible sighs around the room and small smiles that crept onto all of their faces. “Yes, that is something very positive. Eskel, what about you?” Jaskier prompted. 

“Well, I ah, I started whittling a toy for Ciri’s birthday and it came out rather well. I made her a little lion cub.” Eskel blushed madly at the admission, the colour only deepening when Jaskier cooed in delight. “Lambert, your turn next.” 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Eskel,” Lambert fired back, then settled when Jaskier shot him a filthy look. “Okay, okay, well, I managed to brew a fairly good round of homebrew over the last few days. It is somehow both horrifically strong and also tastes quite appley, so it shouldn’t make you want to die as you drink it. Yennefer, if I have to do this, you better do it too.” 

Yennefer went to scoff at them all but stopped when they all looked at her expectantly. There was clearly something in the faces of the witchers that ripped through the defensive walls she was trying to keep up. “Well, I have Ciri now. I always wanted a child, so now I get that chance with her. I can teach her about magic and life and look after her, and I can’t think of anything better.” 

Jaskier beamed at them all. “I am so proud of you all. Come here!” He tucked the letters back into the box and tusked it out of the way before launching himself at them, pulling them all together so that he could get his arms around as much of them as possible in a hug. He heard Lambert and Yennefer grumbling in pretend disgust but felt them all wriggling closer to him, the four of them soaking up the affection like wilted flowers in a rainstorm. 

“I love you all so much. We can read a few more tomorrow, but for now I think we all deserve a cuddle and a nap.” When no one protested his idea, Jaskier squirmed until he was comfortable in the arms of the people he loved most in the world. He knew that Vesemir and Ciri would join them all later and then their little family would be complete. There was nothing better in the world and hopefully tonight would help them all to realise it. 


	65. The winks I’ve masked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather clears up and another letter is read.

Jaskier woke us sprawled across the three witchers. He grinned to himself, looking around to see Yennefer using Lambert as a pillow while Ciri had managed to clamber on top of all of them and was lying half on Jaskier and half on Yennefer. He turned his head to see Vesemir lying beside them all, just barely in reach of Geralt’s hand where the man seems to have stretched out to knot his fingers into the back of his father figure’s shirt. He should have expected Vesemir to have placed himself between them all and the opening of the pillow fort, the protective urges all the puppies showed at any opportunity having to have come from somewhere. 

Jaskier enjoyed looking at his little family when they were asleep. There was none of the anger and bitterness they showed when they were awake. They all seemed peaceful and were downright affectionate in their sleep, often cuddling up to each other even when they had been at each other’s throats earlier that day. 

Jaskier managed to slither out from under Ciri, pushing her gently so that she curled closer into Yennefer, and then managed to get out of the pillow fort with four pairs of gleaming amber eyes blinking sleepily at the disturbance before going back to sleep. He wandered off to the kitchen and busied himself making some breakfast. The storm seemed to have cleared for a bit, so hopefully they would be able to spend the day outdoors, even if it meant bundling up in a ridiculous amount of layers. With a plan in mind, Jaskire bustled about and then brought the food he had made back to the great hall, smiling softly at the sleepy faces that greeted him sitting at the table. 

“So, I thought that since it sounds like it should be a semi decent day out there, we could all go out and get some sunshine. I don’t know about you guys, but I am wilting away like a delicate little flower in here.” Jaskier swooned dramatically against Eskel where he sat beside him to Ciri’s amusement. 

The witcher shoved him gently back up before nodding. “Sunshine sounds good. We could all do with some practice, I think Geralt’s getting a bit slow with all this relaxing.” And with that the witchers were off, yelling insults and threats goodnaturedly at each other as they almost bounced in their seats. Yennefer started talking to Ciri about working on her magic a bit more and it was all decided. As soon as the last morsels of food were devoured they were off, Ciri and Jaskier bundled up in enough layers to make it hard to move properly to try and keep out the cold. 

It didn't take long for them all to get settled. The witchers quickly cleared the training grounds and were practicing their forms while Vesemir yelled corrections at them. Yennefer and Ciri seemed to be trying to set hunks of wood on fire, Yennefer making beautiful columns of flame shoot up into the air without damaging anything around them while Ciri was making the hunks of wood explode in a shower of sparks and excited yelling. Jaskier trilled a quick noise at the snow against the side of the keep, grinning as it swiftly moved to give him a sheltered space he could sit in without getting his pants wet. Then he created a lute out of the snow, revelling in the way the sounds were so much sharper and more crystalline than with his water lute. He settled in, trying to compose a song about the beauty of such a day while his brain was also mulling over lyrics for a tribute to their fallen friends. Thank the gods for his college training, otherwise he would be getting muddled with these different rhyme schemes. It had the makings of a wonderful day. 

* * *

Once they had finished eating dinner that night and Ciri had told everyone for the millionth time about how she had managed to set the piece of wood on fire just like Yennefer had told her to, Lambert elbowed Eskel in the side and gave him a meaningful look. 

Eskel sighed and started fidgeting with his plate. “Were we going to look at another letter tonight?” he asked Jaskier quietly. Geralt and Yennefer turned sharp eyes on the bard as well. 

“Alright little mageling, time for you to get some witcher training. We can’t have you becoming a mage full time, we need to teach you a thing or two about monsters,” Vesemir said loudly, sqooping Ciri up under his arm and starting to carry her towards the stairs. He nodded at Jaskier as Ciri started asking him if there were any monsters with exploding heads and the bard smiled at him. 

“Since you all seem so eager, we can have a look at another one tonight. Do you want to do it in the pillow fort again or do you want a change of scenery?” 

Yennefer started pulling him towards the blanket construction. “We’ve set a precedent now. Who knows how changing it could affect the dynamics of the experiment you are clearly conducting on all of us,” she said brusquely, even as she ducked inside and started gathering pillows and blankets to make a little nest for herself. Jaskier blinked at her, nonplussed, but quickly started grabbing some blankets and pillows for himself when it looked like she wouldn't be sharing unless forced. 

The witchers followed, more sedately but no less enthusiastically when it came to making a comfortable spot for themselves. Jaskier had to glare at them a couple of times when the squabbling over blankets threatened to get out of hand, but in a few minutes they were all settled in and Lambert was handing Jaskier the box of letters with an almost ritualistic expression on his face. 

Jaskier looked around at them as he removed the two folded pieces of paper and shuffled those remaining. He noticed that there were four pages left, so Vesemir had clearly found a way to sneak his in at some point. With one last look at the expectant and wary faces aimed at him, Jaskier began reading. 

_ The only reason I am writing this is so that you stop whining all the time, Jaskier. We are all adults here and can deal with our own shit without being made to write letters like children. Hell, we are probably some of the most educated people in the whole bloody Continent, even if some of us don’t act like they’ve ever opened a book in their lives. We are all specialists in trades that require us to have a large amount of knowledge on a range of subjects and we know our stuff. So you can stop hovering over us like a bloody mother hen, Jaskier, we can choose to deal with our issues however we want.  _

_ If I leave it like this you’re going to lose your mind, aren’t you? Fine. Let’s see, what’s something suitably heart wrenching to get you to give us all a break? Do you want to hear about the awful childhoods we all had? I am sure we can all sit around and cry for hours about that but it won’t do us any good. We aren’t those people any more, the small scared children who were at the mercy of the world. We found ways to make ourselves strong, to make sure no one can ever hurt us again, but I think that’s half of our problems now. Maybe that’s why we can’t let each other be happy. We can see the same crying hungry children peering out at us from each other’s eyes and we hate the reminder of what we once were.  _

_ When we found ways to bury those children deep down inside us, when we pretended that we were never hungry and hurt and lonely, we weren’t able to bury that stupid little voice that still hopes for better. That voice that wishes we had people who loved us, wishes that we could go into a town and be treated like any other traveller, wishes that we could have a nice normal life. Why the hell should we want a normal life anyway? It’s just disease and dirt and pain until the day they die. We all get to see so much more, do so much more, so why does it feel like the stupid, ignorant pigs wallowing in their own shit are the lucky ones some days?  _

_ For fucks sake, there’s no point dwelling on it. We are all strong enough and capable enough to get almost anything we ever wanted. If we can’t have something then we just need to look harder. There has to be some kind of upside to all of the shit we went through to distance ourselves from those stupid whining children. We have power now, power that we never could have imagined, and that has to mean that we are entitled to some kind of recompense for what we went through. We aren’t at the mercy of those stronger or older now, so why the hell can we still not have what we want?  _

Jaskier sighed, looking down at his hands where they held the letter. “First off, I am not judging anyone for what they write. I am really happy that you are all taking this in the spirit that I meant it and that you are all willing to work through some of these problems, but you need to do it for you, not me. If you are just doing this because you don’t want me to be mad, then any changes you make won’t help. You need to want to look at these issues for yourself and so that you can find a way to move forward without all of this hanging over you.”

“We understand, Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled. “It might have started out as a way to get you off of our cases but .. ah ... it helps. To see that others feel the same. It makes it easier and means there's no reason not to try and fix it.” 

“Yea,” Lambert agreed quietly. “Like the letter said, we all had shit childhoods. Now we need to decide if we are going to let that define us or if we are going to move forward.” 

Eskel looked around the room. “What if we did like one of Jaskier’s things. Each of us has to say one thing we would say to the little kid that we were to make them feel better?” 

Jaskier felt tears welling in his eyes at the instant acceptance of the idea. They were all so keen to try and fix this. 

“Well,” Lambert began. “I would say that even if this isn’t the life you want, at least you will have friends and family who will walk this path with you. That’s something I never had as a child.” 

Yennefer scowled down at her hands. “No matter how much you force people to care for you or respect you, your parents will never love you like you want. It’s much better to focus on the people who do care for you, they are the ones who matter.” 

Geralt hummed softly. “You need to keep dreaming. One day, you might find a way to have what you want, even if you don’t expect it to look like that.” 

“What like your little knighthood you kept dreaming about, keep believing buddy,” Eskel joked. Geralt smacked him on the head and motioned for him to speak. “Even when it feels like there’s nothing but death around you, there are still ways that you can make something new. Not everything is as it seems.” 

The four of them turned to look expectantly at Jaskier. He had been silently welling up with tears as they spoke, both for the four strong adults in front of him but also the children they had been that had been hurt so badly that they developed these mechanisms to lock away the pain. “I would tell myself that I should stop trying to fit in. I was never going to be the son they wanted and I am much better for it. The only person I need to be is me and I don’t need to know exactly who that is just yet.” 

They all looked at each other quietly for a moment before Yennefer shifted awkwardly. “I’m going to go and see what rubbish Vesemir is filling Ciri’s head with. Are you all coming to help me stop him from corrupting her with visions of exploding monsters and other gruesome displays?” 

The witchers nodded and followed her out, each one stopping to touch Jaskier in some way as they went. Lambert punched him playfully on the shoulder, Eskel ruffled his hair. Geralt paused and stared into his eyes for a moment before gently taking his hand. “Thank you for this,” he muttered, face turning pink before he hurried out after the others. 

Jaskier stayed where he was, listening to them bickering gently as they headed upstairs to find the others. His hand felt warm where Geralt had held it and he couldn’t help himself from lifting it to his face. Maybe once they had worked through all of the trauma that they had all been in and found a way to deal with their problems, maybe he could talk to Geralt about the way his heart leapt everytime the white haired witcher looked at him. Or maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to be careful. Self improvement didn’t happen in a night and he didn’t know if he could survive heartbreak again. 


	66. I’ll be with you all along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to the river and read another letter.

It was a few days before someone came to ask Jaskier about the letters again. He hadn’t wanted to push them, aware that they needed some time to think and reflect on what they had talked about so far before he stirred them up further. And with the break in the weather, they were able to spend more time outdoors, stopping them from going stir crazy in the confines of the keep. 

Jaksier had even managed to convince them all to go on an outing to the Gwenllech for a river day, promising large amounts of fish to break up the tedium of all of the stew they had been wearing. It had meant waiting for a few hours while Yennefer enchanted everyone’s clothing to be warm enough (something the she insisted on even when all four witchers protested that they didn’t feel the cold) but Jaskier was far too excited at the opportunity to be in running water to worry about how long it took them. Hell, he was almost ready to run stark naked through the woods to get there, if it didn’t mean potentially losing his favourite body parts to frostbite. 

Once they set out, riding double on the horses to make sure that they all got there in time, Jaskier couldn’t help singing his excitement out, the songs getting dirtier and dirtier as he went to Ciri’s amusement and Geralt’s horror. The witcher still seemed to hold out hope that Ciri was an innocent wee lass, ignorant in the ways of bawdy songs. Somehow he had forgotten who the girl’s grandfather was, Eist had been one of the few people who didn’t get sick of hearing about the various virtues of the maidens of Kovir every time Jaskier ventured near Cintra. 

Yennefer, being the spiteful and vindictive witch that she was, had decided that what she needed to do was to magically enhance Jaskier’s voice to make sure that Ciri didn’t miss out with Geralt’s hands clasped over her ears, grinning wickedly when Jaskier delightedly belted out the fifthteenth verse of  _ The Maids of Kovir _ at such a volume that Vesemir asked if he wanted to cause an avalanche. The peels of laughter the bard had let out had disrupted his place in the song, so he started with some more restrained songs of the knights of Touissant to appease Geralt, who had gone rather pink in the face at the idea of what the fifthteenth maiden could do with the hilt of a blade. 

After that delightful start to the day out, Jaskier had amused himself with working on his control of snow (that was what he was calling it, not practicing throwing snowballs at witchers accurately with nothing but his voice) until he was yelled at by both Lambert and Eskel, who for some reason were not pleased when snow kept hurtling at their faces. Luckily for Jaskier, they arrived at the river just as Lambert was threatening to throw him off of Lady Horsington and into the nearest snow drift, so he was able to slither down from her back and launch himself into the water, clothes and all. 

The others laughed at him and followed with a bit more dignity, Ciri even venturing to dip a finger into the water and squealing in shock at the icy temperatures. Vesemir quickly put his boys to work chopping firewood to take back to the keep, while Ciri and Yennefer practiced more magic at the banks of the river. All of them kept glancing over to see Jaskier darting around in the river, launching himself out of the water to do flips in the air and generally making a fool of himself. It kept them all entertained for the majority of the day until Yennefer set up her magic tent and Jaskier got to work luring fish for them to start preparing to take back. Eskel had managed to find a smoker back in the keep, so they were all excited to try it out when they got back. 

Once they had coaxed Jaskier out of the water and into the tent, they passed the evening passing around a few demijohns of vodka (with a sweet cordial for Ciri as much as she complained) and chatting about the first things they would do once the snows were all gone. Most of them revolved around the delicacies that would be brought from the local village and Lambert’s suggestion of the company he could procure there as well had him getting smacked by Geralt as Ciri muttered “gross” under her breath with a grin. 

It didn’t take Ciri long to drift off to sleep after the excitement of the day and once they were certain she was out for the night, Yennefer cast a quick silencing charm around her before turning to Jaskier awkwardly. 

“I ... I brought the box as well,” she said, pulling it from under the mattress they were sitting on. Jaskier blinked in shock, looking around to see Vesemir trying to hide a grin at the solemn nodding from his pups. 

“I suppose, if you all want, I can read another one tonight. There’s no rush, we can take our time with these,” he said. He didn’t want to disrupt the good day they had all seemed to have, but Eskel shook his head quickly. 

“We all talked about it while you were in the river. We needed the last few days to think a bit, but it’s time for another letter. We might need another couple of days after it before the next one, but it’s time.” 

Jaskier nodded shakily, trying not to let the way they were all reacting to this get to him. The box had been a last minute thought, a crazy plan to try and get them to think about why they were always at each other’s throats, but they were all taking it so seriously. Vesemir sat quietly in his spot between Geralt and Lambert, his interest in the letters clear in his face. The other’s didn’t say anything about him being there, so Jaskier assumed that they had already talked to him about it. 

He cleared his voice, pulled out an unfolded letter at random and started reading. 

_ There are some things that I feel you all need to hear. As much as you feel like the world is against you, like everyone condemns you for monsters, there are people out there who care for you. There are people whose lives you have made better, and even if they do not recognize it, that is a special thing indeed. You have saved people from misfortune, yes, but you have also been a friend to those who need it. You have shown those that have no hope left in them that there is a reason to keep going, that there are people out there that will do the righteous thing and will help those in need. All of you have made this Continent better in some way, and I think that you lose sight of this amongst the death and destruction that our lives can become.  _

_ None of you would be the same if you hadn’t all met each other. You each bring something new and needed to each other. Some of you provide the voice of reason or the experience from years spent wandering this world, others give a way to express those emotions that you all hide from, a way to release some of the stress and tension from carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You are all part of a unit now, something that would be fundamentally changed by the loss of even one of you, and that is something you should all be proud of.  _

_ Now you are all providing for Ciri what you never had for yourselves. You are making sure that she never has to go through some of the things that you did and that is something for which she will never be able to thank you enough. We all try to do our best for the next generation, and we all make mistakes. As long as you are trying your hardest and listening to what she needs, then you will never go wrong. Hold onto the memories of her childhood, she will grow far too quickly and then you will be able to look back and see just how far you have helped her to grow.  _

_ There will come a time when Ciri looks at you all as most children do to their parents or the people who raised them and says that you have failed. The fact that you will have raised her to be strong enough to throw everything you have done back in your faces is a testament to the work you have done in making sure that she trusts you enough to question your decisions, to point out with fresh eyes where you went wrong. Because you will make mistakes, we all do, and the only way we can improve is by acknowledging them and moving forward.  _

_ We all cling to the idea that we were doing the best we could with what we had. Don’t let that blind you from doing what is needed. There is always a choice to make, and sometimes you do not realise that you had any other option until it is far too late. Don’t lose sight of the past, it will help you to make better choices in the future.  _

Jaskier paused for a moment after reading it. He let his eyes flick up to the person he was pretty sure wrote this letter, but waited for one of the others to see how they wanted to handle this. 

“Fuck,” Lambert said softly. The others burst out into giggles, some slightly hysterical, at his response. “What the hell are we going to do when Ciri is an adult? How the hell are the six of us meant to raise a princess, a princess with some prophecy hanging over her head at that?” 

“She’s my Child Surprise, you guys don’t have to feel any responsibility over it. I can handle it alone,” Geralt immediately interjected, looking worried at the idea that his claiming Ciri in his life would in any way inconvenience any of the others. 

Vesemir twisted his ear in response, the way Geralt’s shoulders instantly rose and he adopted a kicked puppy expression suggesting that this was probably how Vesemir had stopped his pup from talking shit as a kid. “Stop being ridiculous. We are all family here and we will be raising her together. It’s not responsibility or destiny or any of the other shit you have in that head of yours. Ciri is ours and we look after our own.” Lambert and Eskel nodded seriously at his words, shooting Geralt glares as if he had been trying to steal the last cookie from the jar. 

“Besides, I don’t know how you lugheads are going to deal with her developing powers. Ciri will be far more powerful than we can imagine, she needs someone with some magical know-how to help guide her,” Yennefer quickly interjected, concern that someone would try and protest her right to be in Ciri’s life clear in her eyes. 

“Right, and someone needs to be here to teach the girl how to have fun and talk with her about non-life-or-death matters.” Jaskier said decisively. “Hell, we’ve already been having chats about her love life and I’m not letting any of you try and have the talk with her. You’d spend more time going off about how best to choose a brothel than talking about how she can woo a beautiful damsel or ... what’s the masculine version of a damsel? I’m coming up blank here.” 

“It’s settled then,” Eskel said, meeting Geralt’s eyes. “We all focus on making Ciri the best person she can be. We love her and train her and make sure that she is ready for anything that life can throw at her. And apparently that means making sure that we clean our shit up and talk about all this emotional stuff. We can do it, for her and for ourselves.” 

Jaskier couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around Eskel and kissing him dramatically on the cheek. He heard someone growl in what sounded like anger but ignored it to instead coo over the bright red that Eskel’s face turned. “I’m so proud of you all! You’ve all grown so much.” 

“You’re part of this too, bard,” Vesemir chuckled. That brought Jaskier back to earth and he turned to the older witcher with a pout. “None of that self-sacrificing shit any more. You need to learn just as much as these idiots here.” 

Jaskier grumbled over the self-satisfied looks the others threw him and turned to cuddle up with Ciri. “Fine, fine, but watch me do all this self help stuff faster than all of you. At least I know what a feeling is, unlike you repressed assholes.” 

Yennefer whacked him goodnaturedly over the head with a pillow. “Shut up and go to sleep, idiot. We can always leave you in the river tomorrow if you start getting too cocky.” 

The witchers laughed at her words and started curling up together for the night. He felt someone snuggle up behind him and sighed in contentment as they all wriggled closer until they were almost sweltering under the heat of all the bodies and blankets. Jaskier closed his eyes and thanked Melitele that he had found them all. 


	67. Some fictions we took to mean fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another outdoor day and the second to last letter.

Jaskier had managed to convince them to spend a few more days down by the river. The keep, as magnificent and warm as it was, was starting to drive him insane. He needed the space, the ability to roam around and explore something other than the same bricks again and again. The others seemed to agree. The witchers seemed to revel in fighting beside the river and trying to throw each other in, which resulted in Lambert as the smallest getting thrown in far too many times, and Yennefer and Ciri kept getting Jaskier to manipulate the magic and then Ciri would try to replicate it with Yennefer’s guidance. 

It resulted in a few exciting fights where Ciri, Jaskier, and Yennefer pelted the witchers with balls of freezing cold water, but once Yennefer was thrown into the river at one point they all stopped very quickly at the furious look on her face. She came clambering out with her hair almost crackling with anger, sending the witchers sprinting off into the woods with the claim that they were after firewood. Once they were all out of ear shot, Yennefer turned to Jaskier and Ciri where they stood uncertainly by the banks of the river with a huge grin on her face. 

“I’ve still got it,” she chuckled. 

“That you do, honey. You are the most terrifying sorceress in the Continent and I am very glad that you are on our side.” 

Ciri nodded empathetically along to Jaskier’s words. “Can you teach me how to be that scary? I want to be able to make witchers run for the hills like that!” 

“Of course, my little mageling. With a bit of work, we can make you absolutely terrifying. We can even use Jaskier as a model and I can show you just where to stab to get the most pain from a man.” 

“Or we could not,” Jaskier said in a voice a few octaves higher than he would have liked. He had his hands protectively over certain vulnerable body parts and was trying to slowly creep further and further into the water as if it would save him from the bloodthirsty smiles turned on him. When they stepped towards him, he turned and dove into the water, slipping further downstream as quickly as he could while he heard them laughing behind him. Why the hell had he ever let them meet each other, women were terrifying!

\---

That night they were cuddled back in the tent, Ciri out cold and under the same silencing spell, when Lambert pulled the box out from where it had been concealed under several pillows and blankets. The witchers all made this odd rumbling noise in their chests that had Yennefer and Jaskier looking at them quizzically, but Lambert just pushed the box closer to the bard and even started opening the lid like that would help him to get the message and start reading. 

Jaskier took the hint, gently setting the letters they had already read to the side before he grabbed one of the two remaining and started reading. 

_ Alright, so, letter writing. Writing down all of our problems. Yes. Um. Well. I don’t know what to write about really. I mean, everyone here has so many things that are bringing us to this boiling point, but most of it is just the way that life is for us. This is one of the few places where no one is judging us, is looking at who and what we are and making assumptions. This is one of the few places we can feel safe and I think that scares us. We don’t know how to be ourselves anymore. We all wear these masks when we are out in the world, when we have people scared of us just because we are who we are and we look terrifying. Even if we didn’t look like this, though, I think people would be scared of us. They would know that we are not the same as them, that we have something that makes us different, and that would scare them.  _

_ No one likes what is different and all of us wear our differences on our skins, either as armour or as scars. We can’t help it anymore and then when we all come here and we have the chance to take that armour off, it terrifies us. We lash out and get angry, get vicious, because how are we meant to react when people aren’t scared of us, when they don’t hide their children when we come to town and gather the mob to chase us on. We are only meant to be accepted for a short time, with caution and fear and the knowledge that once we finish the job we will move on. Having people look at us without fear, without that condemnation and hatred, it’s disconcerting.  _

_ And yes, we are all monsters together so that makes it easier to look at each other without fear, but this year it seems ... different. We aren’t just monsters together, we are looking at each other like people, like people we can care for and travel with and bring that acceptance with us out onto the Path again. How do we deal with that? None of us have ever had that before and the idea that we could have it and then have it taken away is terrifying. I think it would be worse, to have known what it could be like if people weren’t scared of you, didn’t run from you yelling “monster” and then have that all taken away. But then, it looks like we are doing that to ourselves anyway.  _

_ We fight and bicker and rip any shred of happiness we can find up into a million pieces because how else are we meant to keep going. If we let ourselves think that we can have happiness then how do we go back to the pain and the loneliness when this all passes, when the people we thought saw us as something more than what we have been made into leave us and go and pursue their own happiness.  _

Again, they took a moment to think after that one. 

“Okay, you lot are ridiculous. I am literally the only one here who is a proper monster, so really, you all need to stop thinking about yourselves like that. It’s wrong, you are all amazing people who help others so much, none of you are monsters at all.” Jaskier knew he shouldn’t snap at them like this, but it was becoming a bit of a sore spot with him. His friends were in no way monstrous and he would rather be dragged over hot coals then listen to them call themselves such. 

“You might be the only one who is literally a creature here, Jaskier,” Yennefer snarled right back, “but none of us here are just humans. The witchers are the product of mutations, something that should not naturally exist, and mages are the product of chaos. If you think that any of us are seen as human, you’re kidding yourself. You can dress it up in your songs as much as you want, but none of us will ever be accepted by the humans as one of them, and to be quite honest I wouldn’t want to be. It was humans who made most of our childhoods hell, humans who are more than happy to take our help but then spit on us as soon as they have what they want. If they want to call me a monster, I will be the most monstrous monster they have ever seen.” 

Vesemir hummed under his breath. “I don’t know how helpful that is, Yennefer. I see the appeal, hell I’ve thought that way myself for a while. But you all need to find a way to see yourself as something more than what you have been made into. You're not monstrous, you’re powerful and dangerous, but not inhuman. All of you have some human in you, even you, Jaskier, so don’t try and pretend that you are completely separate from them.” 

“What’s one of Jaskier’s feel good things we can do? There has to be something we can do to think about how we aren’t completely awful,” Geralt said, desperately trying to diffuse the tension between Yennefer and Vesemir. 

“Alight,” Jaskier said. “I have one, something that a few ladies taught me at a brothel in Provis. Yenna, do you have more paper?” When the mage quickly conjured a few pages and some writing utensils, Jaskier set to work writing the names of each of them at the top of the page. “Ok, so, what happens is that we each take the piece of paper with our names on it. Then, we all pass it to the person on our left. They have to write down one thing they think is good about us, something nice that we have done or something that they appreciate about the person who’s paper it is. Then you fold it over so you can see the name but not the message and pass it to the next person. When it gets back to you, you have a page of things that others like about you, proof that none of us are awful monsters with no redeeming qualities. Sound good?” 

The others nodded awkwardly, faces already filling with heat at the thought. Yennefer muttered a quick spell to make the writing unrecognisable and handed out the papers. They could clearly work out who wrote what by the order that it was written in, but Jaskier wasn’t going to challenge the mage if this made her more comfortable with what they were doing. 

“Here we go then,” Jaskier said and started handing out the pages. 


	68. It’s not fair how much I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone writes what they appreciate about the others.

It took a moment for the others to get with the program. They all looked at the page in front of them with a look of horror on their faces. 

“Now that we all have the page with our names on it, we need to pass them to the person to our left. Come on, this is the easy part.” Jaskier frowned at them, not understanding why this was so much worse than anything else they had done. Then again, they were all much better at cutting each other down rather than building each other up, so this would make quite a change for them all. 

Reluctantly, the witchers and mage passed their pages around. Jaskier ended up with Eskel’s page and grinned to himself. “Okay, so now you all need to write something nice about that person at the top of their page and then fold it over so that no one can read it. Don’t panic too much about it, just think of something that this person does that you admire or that you wish you could thank them for.” With that, Jaskier turned to his page and tapped the quill against his chin in thought. 

What to write for his lovely Eskel? Something about how proud he was of the way he kept calm under pressure? Or about how he refuses to let the judgements of others stop him from helping them? Gods, this was harder than he had thought, to narrow down one thing that he thought his dear witcher should know. 

He resolved himself and started writing. 

_ You are always the voice of reason. You indulge all of our stupidity and aren’t afraid to join in with any of the shit we get up to, but you are always the one that I feel like I can come to with any problem and you will listen to me and then help me to find a way to make it better. Thank you for being there for us all and helping each of us however you can, whether it’s insulting other people with me or being the person that I know will listen to my problems without making a judgement.  _

Once he had folded over the page, he looked around to watch the others write. Geralt in particular had a funny look on his face, absolute concentration as if he was about to hunt some dangerous beast etched into every line. One he had seen all of the others fold their pages, he turned and handed the page he had written on to Yennefer. The sorceress accepted it with a wary look on her face, clearly uncomfortable, so he grinned back at her before taking the next page from Eskel. 

Lambert this time. Perfect. What to say to make his grumpy little witcher melt like the big softy he knew he was. Hmm, this one would be fun. 

_ You are so good at taking care of other people. Everytime you can see that someone is uncomfortable being the focus of everyone’s attention, you start some little argument or whatever to make sure that everyone is too busy being annoyed at you to remember the person who was upset. I’ve seen you do it a million times and every time you look so proud of yourself that you have managed to help someone, it makes me so glad that you are my friend.  _

Again, Jaskier seemed to be much faster at writing than the others. He shouldn’t be surprised though, how often did his witchers practice their writing. Yennefer probably had the same writing speed as him with all of the research she did, but the woman was clearly finding this particular exercise a bit more challenging than he was. He could almost see her restraining the biting snarky comments she usually used to express her emotions, her eyes flaring every so often as she chewed at her bottom lip, but he was so proud of her for giving this a go. 

Gods, he was proud of all of them. They were working so hard with these letters and his random ideas to try and make them all get along. It blew his mind. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he would be able to blackmail and coax four witchers and a sorceress into doing silly little tasks to make them feel better about themselves. 

Again, once he had noticed they had all finished, he started handing off the letters again. He got several scowls in return, the witchers in particular seeming less than enthused about having to be this emotionally verbose, but he wasn’t going to let them out of it now when they had come so far already. 

Jaskier had Geralt’s page this time. He fought the urge to peek at what the other’s had written, but he knew that the others would notice and he didn’t want to deal with the crap they would give him about it all. This one would be challenging to write. How to make his witcher feel better about himself without accidentally professing his deep and abiding love for him. This was not the time for his usual romantic leanings, he would have to figure out a way to give a lovely heartfelt comment without letting his ridiculous emotions get in the way. 

_ You always take on the weight of the world. I admire the way that you look out for others and cannot seem to stop yourself from trying to solve everyone’s problems. Sometimes I worry that you let these problems get to you, that you allow them to consume you and the guilt of those you were unable to help starts to consume you, but the way that you always think first about how you can help people before your own safety is so admirable and frustrating for all of us who care for you.  _

Hopefully that was suitably restrained and non-declaration-of-eternal-love-y. He was the last one writing this time, having spent a good amount of time deliberating before he started writing. Lambert raised an eyebrow at him when he looked up and Jaskier poked his tongue out as he passed the letter on. 

  
  


Jaskier looked down at Vesemir’s name at the top of the page. This one would be fun. 

_ You try so hard to seem like the strong, stern mentor figure, but you have so much love in your heart. You are more than just an instructor or the last remaining Grandmaster of the School of the Wolf. You are the person who makes Kaer Morhen into a home rather than a fortress and makes sure that all of the wayward souls that you call your pups know that there is a place in this world where they are loved without questions. Thank you for all you have done for us.  _

The group was picking up speed now. Jaskier barely had a moment to look around before Lambert was starting to pass around the papers. Jaskier smirked to himself. It was time for Yennefer’s page now. How best to compliment his spiky little kitten? 

_ You try so hard to make others think that you are some terrifying individual with no emotions or needs. But you are one of the most caring people I know. You have looked after me in some of my darkest hours and I have seen the way the things that have happened in your life have haunted you and made you into the person you are today. You are one of my best friends in this entire Continent and I love you so much for all of the love and support you have given me. _

Everyone had finished their comments now so Jaskier smiled softly around at the group. “So this next swap should be your page now. Once you get it, have a look at what the others have written for you.” 

Jaskier couldn’t restrain himself. He heard the others chuckling at him as he started unfolding his page eagerly. He pulled a face at them and started perusing the page eagerly. 

_ You have the most caring, forgiving heart I have ever seen. You are always prepared to accept others faults and failings (even when you really shouldn’t because you are going to get your heart broken one of these days) but it makes you the most amazing friend. You are willing to take the time to try and understand why people act the way you do, and it is incredible to watch.  _

_ You have this inner light in you that brings out the best in others. I haven’t seen the others this happy in years and that is because of you. With your words and your willingness to play the fool to cheer others up, you manage to make everyone feel loved and accepted. You have a gift, Jaskier, and I hope that you continue to share it with us all. _

_ You have no fear in you. No matter what the situation, no matter how much people snarl and growl at you, you never back down from something that you want. You terrify me with your courage on a daily basis, and even when it drives us all insane with worry for you we can all appreciate how much you want to experience life and all the things it could possibly include.  _

_ Thank you for being the little shit that you are. You make every day an adventure and we can never guess what you will get up to next, but it’s always something that helps us to find the joy in simple things again. You show us that there are still things out there for us to enjoy and that we can always make the most of any moment.  _

_ You have helped to rebuild my family. For years I have felt everyone pulling away from each other, too consumed by the awful things that have happened to all of us, but you have such a beautiful light inside you that is slowly healing all of us. You make us want to be better versions of ourselves so that we can appreciate the world like you do.  _

Jaskier felt his eyes welling up at how amazingly sweet these comments were. He glanced up to see the others in similar states of distress. Lambert looked up from his page, muttered a heartfelt “fuck” and stormed out of the tent, page of compliments clutched in one hand. Jaskier stood to go after him but Vesemir pushed him gently back down onto the cushion and followed his youngest witcher out into the night. 

“He’ll be fine, just needs to blow off some steam,” Eskel said in a husky voice. Geralt nodded, refusing to meet anyone else’s eyes. “Yennefer, is there any more vodka left? I think another drink and then it’s time for bed.” 

Yennefer nodded, wiping delicately at her eyes to ensure that she didn’t smudge any makeup before pulling a few more bottles from somewhere. They sat silently drinking for a few minutes before Vesemir and Lambert returned. Lambert went straight for Jaskier, flopping on top of him and pulling him down into a hug beside where Ciri slept. Jaskier rearranged them so that he was lying more comfortably and wrapped his arms around his unusually emotional friend. He felt the other’s join, curling up around them with a few more cut off sniffs and hitched breaths. Once they were all down, it was only minutes before sleep came for Jaskier, bearing him off into beautiful dreams of his darling friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't want to try and figure out the order of Jaskier's compliments, the ones he receives are from:   
> Yennefer   
> Vesemir  
> Geralt   
> Lambert  
> Eskel


	69. I promise you I’ll try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last letter is read.

They had decided to head back to the keep the next day, Ciri protesting even as Geralt mumbled something about the importance of keeping all digits warm and not frostbitten. Jaskier had been just as bad, pouting horrifically and even managing to break away and dive into the river to the delight of Ciri and the annoyance of the witchers. Once Yennefer had managed to magic him out of the water and shove him onto a horse where Eskel grumbled about having to put up with the soggy bard, they moved off, Jaskier pretending to ignore the way that Lambert and Geralt chuckled at the way the bard looked like a half-drowned kitten. 

The wind whipped through Jaskier’s cold clothing and had him whimpering pathetically as he huddled up closer and closer to Eskel. The other’s pulled faces and refrained from mentioning that that was what happened when you jumped into a freezing cold river and then went riding about in the middle of winter. Eskel cuddled him closer, trying to share the heat of his body, while Yennefer cast a quick warming charm which had Jaskier singing ridiculous ditties praising the kindness of sorceresses everywhere. 

As soon as they returned, they were all back in the pillow fort with various warming drinks in front of them. Ciri was entertaining herself by quizzing the witchers on various monsters she had heard of and scowling when they turned out to be less interesting than the fantastical stories that she had heard. 

“Jaskier, you make them all sound so much more interesting than they are,” she pouted, punching him rather harder than he expected in the arm. 

“Well, my vicious little cub,” Jaskier said, rubbing at his arm with a wince, “it is part of the being a bard thing. I have to make sure that people are willing to pay up when they hire a witcher. That tends to mean stretching the truth a little bit, either to fit the rhyme scheme or to make sure that it all sounds suitably terrifying and dangerous. If the idiots thought they had half a chance against something like a drowner, then we would have that many more dead yokels thinking that they can save some coin and do it themselves. Much safer and more profitable for both me and the witchers if we play up the danger a little bit.” 

Ciri frowned in thought. “Sure, but isn’t it bad to lie about something so important? Geralt said that I shouldn’t lie, even though Grandmother said that sometimes you need some delicate lies to maintain what you have built.  _ Empires are built on a web of lies, Cirilla, you just need to make sure you are the one weaving the web rather than the stupid little fly that flew blindly into the web.  _ That was one of the things she used to argue with Eist about. He said it was better to rule with honesty.” 

Geralt humphed. “Well, I can’t say that surprises me. Calanthe was always willing to do whatever it took to maintain her power, and Eist was always an idealisitc fool. I bet that Calanthe won that particular battle every time. Anyway, there’s a difference between a lie that helps protect other people, like the one’s Calanthe would have used to make sure that Cintra was safe or that Jaskier uses to stop people from getting their heads ripped off by a nekker, and lies that only serve yourself. I don’t want to see you become some lying brigand that no one can trust because your word is worth less than dirt. You are a princess and you are ours now, and as such you will live your life with honour.” 

Ciri looked at Geralt in awe. She was clearly drinking in every word, trying to find a way to reconcile the life she would have had in Cintra and her new life with the witchers. “But what about when I lied when I was running from the man with the bird on his head? I told lots of lies then, but they were all because I didn’t want anyone to hurt me anymore and they were all looking for the Lion Cub of Cintra. Does that mean I have no honour?” 

“No honey,” Yennefer said, pulling Ciri into a rough hug. She shot Geralt a look laden with emotion as he seemed choked up by the idea that Ciri could think she had already let them down. “You did what anyone would have done to ensure that they survived. Those kinds of lies are necessary to protect yourself and the future of Cintra. The lies that ruin your honour are ones where they only bring you pleasure and hurt others. Ones like telling people something to hurt them or make them do something that you know is wrong.” 

“Oh, that makes sense,” Ciri said, beaming up at both of them. She didn’t react to the pain that lurked in both Yennefer and Geralt’s eyes even though Jaskeir knew that she had seen it. Hell, his girl would make a hell of a spy if he dared to teach her. He supposed that a few spying skills wouldn’t hurt her, even if Geralt and his silly sense of honour and righteousness wouldn’t see how those skills would benefit her in such a dangerous world. Yennefer would be more than happy to help him teach Ciri some survival skills that their witchers most likely wouldn’t approve of, he would have to talk to her about it later. 

Jaskier turned to see Lambert, Eskel, and Vesemir chatting away in the corner before Vesemir turned to Ciri. “Little miss, I think it’s time for us to go and take stock of what we have in the kitchens and then you can help me cook up a homecoming feast. I think we can make some fish pie to celebrate, how does that sound?” Ciri grinned and started hurrying out of the pillow fort, pulling Vesemir with her and yelling over her shoulder, “Have fun with your secret letters!” 

The five of them looked at each other in shock while Ciri’s giggles echoed down the hall. 

“Of course out of all the bloody princesses in the bloody Continent I end up with the one who’s more nosy than anyone I have ever met. I blame you, Jaskier, she knows more than she should just like you.” Geralt shot Jaskier a teasing glare. It went straight to Jaskier’s heart and he busied himself with the box of letters to try and hide the way his lips curved up into a besotted smile and the colour rushed to his face. Gods be good, Geralt was even more attractive when he wasn’t brooding and grumpy all the time. 

“Okay then, last letter from the box. Here we go, people.” 

_ Seeing all of you fighting all the time hurts. I know that you are all just trying to protect yourselves, to make sure that no one takes away anything that you have managed to eke out of a world that has been unimaginably cruel to you, but you don’t seem to see how much you could help each other if you would all just open up. You have all had such similar experiences and I can’t help but feel as if those experiences should bind you together rather than making you bite and snarl like you do.  _

_ I know that I don’t see the world in the same way as the rest of you, that you have all been through things that I could never imagine, but it goes both ways. We need to learn to appreciate each other rather than ripping each other down to make ourselves feel better. Hell, we all need to find a way to actually talk through things rather than reacting with violence the way some of us are particularly apt to (not that I am thinking of anyone in particular here when I say this.)  _

_ I know that you have all been working hard on this, thinking about how you can make a change to ensure that we are all able to get along and that Ciri has the best place to grow up. And I am imaginably proud of all of you, but I don’t want it to happen just because you feel like it will make other people happy. As much as I would love to see you all think about how you can make your lives better and find ways to cherish any moment you find, it means nothing if it isn’t for you. It wouldn’t be a real change, it would just be trying to please others and none of you should be living your lives trying to please others, the world has made it very clear that they will never approve of you the way that you deserve so I would hate to see you all continue to let that dictate your life.  _

_ Anyway, I was meant to be saying what I think that we all need to hear here, not just rambling away. Right, well I have had enough of the constant squabbling and putting each other down. That is something that the rest of the world does well enough and you do not need to bring that kind of negativity back to Kaer Morhen. None of us have ever really been accepted by the rest of the world, so fuck them. None of us would ever turn our backs on the rest of the Continent, bleeding hearts and narcissists all, but we should still be able to see that what they think of us is not important. In this keep are the people who have changed lives all over the Continent, that is something that we should be proud of rather than shying away from any recognition.  _

_ I know that some of you hate the idea of people being openly appreciative of what you have done, while others see that adoration as their due, but we all need to think about how much we allow the beliefs of others to influence us, me included. We need to be bold enough to seize any opportunity for happiness, and that is something I am just as guilty of being afraid of as the rest of you. But if this letter thing works out, hell, I will have to work just as hard as all of you on making myself someone I can be proud of, really and truly proud of instead of just pretending that I am content with my life.  _

Yennefer looked at Jaskier straight away as he finished writing. He could see in her eyes that she knew exactly who had written this letter and looking around he could see knowing looks in the eyes of all of his witchers as well. 

“So... anyone want to take the lead here?” Jaskier said, looking desperately around at them all. 

“Fine,” Yennefer huffed. “How about this, we all have to think about one thing that we are going to do in the near future that will make us happy. Something more than just having a drink or visiting the brothel, something that will make all of the shit we have gone through worth it. Can we do that?” 

There were some awkward nods from the others and furrowed brows as they all thought. 

“I think that I want to find someone who can teach me a bit about blacksmithing,” Lambert said hesitantly. “I have some ideas for swords that I could make that I want to try.” Yennefer nodded encouragingly at the questioning look Lambert turned on her and turned to look at Geralt. 

“Hm, I want to take Ciri to a ball and see her have some of the things that she deserves. I know that she would eat them all alive and have the time of her life. I want to see her have that chance.” 

Yennefer smiled sharply. “That’s something we can do. Between Jaskier and I, we can disguise her well enough without the use of magic to alert anyone who gets too nosy and we can all head to a ball in the spring. I have to say, seeing you lot at a ball is always entertaining. Eskel what do you want?”

“Um, well, I want to get to work on rebuilding the keep once the snow clears. I want this place to be something new, something that honours the loss and sacrifice that made us all but is something more than a mausoleum. Somewhere we can be proud to come home to in the winter. I have some ideas on how we could get it done, I would just need to check that Vesemir is alright with it all. It’s not like we will ever be raising more witchers here, but we can at least make this into a home for those of us that are left rather than a tomb.” 

His two fellow witchers looked at him, emotion swimming in their eyes. With their typical attempt at stoicism, they clapped him on the shoulder and made approving noises even their hands appeared to shake to the bard’s watching eyes. 

“I love that idea, Eskel. I would be happy to help you plan, but I can’t say I would be much help with the building aspect,” Jaskier volunteered. Yennefer nodded her support as well and Eskel blushed. 

“Hm, well, if I could have one thing, I think that I want to take some time away from politics and all the drama, just tell the other sorceresses where they can stick all their plots and schemes and spend some time researching the mutagens used to create witchers. Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped when all three witchers growled at her. “I’m not about to turn into some mad scientist type and lock you all in a dungeon somewhere to conduct experiments. I merely want to hear a bit about how you were created and see if I can’t find a way to make the process safe. I know that you would hate to see any other child go through the pain that you did, but there must be a way to do it safely and allow you to regrow your family in a method that does not involve children being tortured and killed.” 

The three witchers were looking at her in horrified hope. He could almost see them trying to force down any hope that there could be a way that they could have a family like they did as children without other people suffering. Jaskier shot Yennefer a look, trying to assess how confident she was in her plans, but she had that cat with the canary smile on her face that meant that she thought that she could do this. This could change everything for them all. 

“Jaskier, you don’t get out of this. What is it that you want?” Yennefer reminded. The witchers snapped out of whatever day dreams they had of the future Yennefer had presented them with and turned expectantly to look at the bard. 

“I think that I want to go to the sea.” Jaskier couldn’t fail to notice the way that Geralt flinched. “It’s something that I have always wanted, and I guess it makes sense now that I know what I am and all that. But to be able to see it, to smell the salt and feel the waves on my skin. That’s what I want.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The order of the letters:   
> Lambert  
> Geralt  
> Yennefer  
> Vesemir  
> Eskel   
> Jaskier


	70. I steal the hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier overthinks things.

There was an uneasy quiet in the keep for the following few days. The others had clearly passed on what had been spoken about that night to Vesemir and he seemed just as stunned by the ideas of their dreams. Ciri seemed to completely ignore the tension in the air, more interested in devouring stories about different creatures and hunts as well as writing her own stories about a female witcher who was (naturally) the best witcher in the world and frequently came to the rescue of her fellow witchers and other friends. Jaskier knew that there was no way that she was as oblivious as she acted, but he wasn’t going to question her choice to pretend that everything was alright. 

It wasn’t that anyone was angry, it was more that the ideas they had brought up had left them stunned and deeply unsettled. The witchers couldn’t seem to understand a world where they could do something other than fight, a world where they could create rather than destroy, and Yennefer seemed consumed by her ideas about rediscovering the method through which witchers were created. She hounded Vesemir for any information he had until he stormed away, yelling that he had only ever been the fencing instructor and had no idea what was used in the process. She had huffed in annoyance and then disappeared for several days down into the rooms where none of the witchers ever ventured, trying to see what was left of the process. The frequent explosions, clouds of foul smelling smokes, and outbursts of swearing kept the others far away, Ciri joking that they had swapped their sorceress for a mad scientist. 

Jaskier was too busy trying to ignore the way that his heart jumped in his chest every time Geralt looked at him. He couldn’t fail to notice the way that books about the sea kept appearing in his usual position in the pillow fort or the way that Geralt’s eyes kept resting on him with emotions that Jaskier was terrified to try and identify swimming in his amber gaze. Yes, Jaskier had tried to tell himself that he should be brave and seize the things that made him happy in life, but there was still that little voice in his head that said that Geralt could ruin him. He knew it was much more likely that he would be left behind once more if he admitted that what he felt for Geralt was something other than simple companionship. Accepting Jaskier as a friend was one thing, to know that the bard loved the witcher with all of his heart despite all of the shit that he had put him through, there was no way that the witcher would take that. 

Jaskier didn’t want to ruin the fragile peace that they had built. So he took the offerings of friendship, did his best to smile back at Geralt and laugh and joke with him like usual. He saw Geralt look at him in confusion several times when Jaskier’s face would twist with pain at a reminder of when Yennefer and Geralt were a couple, or the way that his voice would break when Geralt spoke of the future beyond this winter. 

He knew better than to expect that Geralt would allow him to travel with him like before. His stupid dreams of spending the warmer months travelling with each of this witchers in turn and composing ballads of their escapades before visiting with his sorceress where more than he could ever hope for and he tried to fight them down. He needed to be realistic. He would spend his time travelling with Lambert and Eskel, helping Yennefer with her studies, and hell, maybe he would spend some time in Oxenfurt teaching the next generation. It would allow him to drown himself in the political plots again and maybe the danger and excitement of spying would help to smother the stupid seeds of hope that kept trying to bloom in his chest. 

Jaskier knew better than to mention his plans in front of Eskel, Lambert, or Yennefer. They would see through him in moments. He would need to spring it on them suddenly and then take off for Oxenfurt before they could see right through him. He would have to be sneaky and start planning it now. It didn’t help that Geralt kept lurking around him, shooting him these bizarre looks and bringing him some treats that he had hidden away somewhere to keep them from Lambert’s sweet tooth. 

Geralt was being very weird and Jaskier just didn’t have the time to try and get to the bottom of it. Thankfully the others were distracted with their plans for the keep, so no one was teasing the hell out of the bard when he kept waking up nestled against Geralt’s chest. He couldn’t help the way that in the night he seemed to instinctively move to end up in Geralt’s arms, no matter where he decided to lie down for bed. He frequently started up on the opposite side of the pillow fort, wrapped around Lambert or Eskel or even being used as a pillow by Yennefer or Vesemir, but then woke up once again in Geralt’s embrace. 

Flowers started cropping up in weird places. Jaskier kept finding bouquets of the hardiest flowers that had managed to survive the snow tucked into clothing, nestled between the strings of his lute, hidden between the pages of his latest composition in honour of all the witcher boys who never survived the trials. When he asked Ciri if she knew who was responsible for them, she laughed at him and refused to tell him anything. There was no way he was asking any of the others where they came from, he wasn’t ready to be teased just like that. Instead, he was collecting them and secreting them away down in the hot springs in an alcove he had found beside his favourite pool. He often sat down there, playing a lute made of water while the fragrance of the flowers swirled in the steamy air around him. 

He tried to push it all out of his mind and focus on what he would do once this winter was over. He knew that the others all had plans, they all talked about what they would get up to back on the Path. Ciri was going to spend time with Yennefer at her home in Vengerberg learning magic so that all four witchers were free to ply their trade. They talked about how they would raise enough money to all meet at the end of the season so that they could take their princess to a ball and outfit her like she deserved. When they asked Jaskier about his plans he joked around about how a wanderer like him could no more tell you what his plans were than Roach could fly. While this earned him a few laughs, Eskel and Yennefer both looked at him in concern which he quickly brushed off. 

He had to be careful. They were all so much happier now, seeming to channel al of their worries into their plans for the future rather than screaming at each other or fighting. He had to keep any of his worries hidden, let them think that he was content to be the tagalong, that he was fine bumbling along behind them and being the comic relief. He didn’t want them feeling like they had to change their plans to fit him in, he would be fine on his own. Now that he had found a way to bring his puppies and his kitten closer together they no longer needed him. They had each other and were supporting each other, none of them needed to worry about a bard that wasn’t even human getting underfoot. 

Maybe that was what we would do. He could try out this whole fossegrim thing a bit more full time. All he would have to do is find a suitable body of water and he could content himself with singing all of the ridiculously melodramatic songs about his heart being ripped to shreds in his chest at the thought of his friends enjoying his life that he could come up to. That sounded like a much better plan, less chance of running into anyone who could report back to them if he was out in some abandoned corner of the Continent. 

With that plan in mind, Jaskier threw himself into life at the keep with abandon. He ignored the way his almost manic enthusiasm for any little thing earnt him sideways looks and instead tried his best to fill his mind with as many memories of his happy friends as he could. He ignored the way that every time he thought about his plan, he could almost hear the currents of their lives ripping him away, swirling in his ears and mingling with the howls of pain that he refused to voice. Once the snows started melting, just before they all set out onto the path, he would slip out and join the Gwenllech and follow it far enough that even his witchers wouldn’t be able to pick up his scent. He would have to leave them a note or something, to make sure that they didn’t waste time worrying about him when they had lives to live and enjoy, but that was something he could get done in these last few days he had with them and secret it somewhere they would never look, like in his lute or something. 

For now, he needed to make sure his witchers and his sorceress would have the best summer of their lives. He needed to help Lambert make plans to find a blacksmithing teacher, help Eskel to draw up his plans, help Geralt figure out just how much coin would be needed to ensure that Ciri had the time of her life, and help Yennefer to see what information she already had on hand before she set off to see what she could find in the archives of the mages. He was far too busy to entertain the voice in the back of his head that said that he was making a huge mistake. This is what was best for everyone. 


	71. How long can this last?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier lets his emotions get the better of him.

Keeping secrets tended to be easier when you kept everyone busy. Jaskier knew that the biggest threat to his plans was Yennefer, what with her sneaky mind reading when she was worried about people. Thankfully, it was far too simple to keep her occupied. All Jaskier had to do was start asking her about her research and she was off, telling him all about the various mutagens that had been used and how she was certain that if she could find alternatives for a few, that would halve the risk at the least. The added benefit was that her conversation often made the witchers uncomfortable. All of them besides Vesemir would come up with some reason that they needed to be far far away whenever she started up, giving Jaskier even more space. 

The issue was Ciri. She seemed to have deduced that something was wrong and was sticking far too close to him. The only times he could get away from her were when he got one of the witchers to take her off for fighting practice, and even then she glared at him as she walked away as if she knew exactly what he was up to. 

It was a double edged sword. He desperately wanted to cultivate as many happy memories as possible with his darling little lion cub, knowing that he wouldn’t see her for months at the very least and that she would be so much more grown up after even one summer, but the constant suspicion was wearing on him. It all came to a head one day when she kept asking him for more singing lessons. All that he wanted was a few minutes of quiet so that he could figure out how to write a letter that would convince them to leave him in peace for the summer and pursue their own interests, and Ciri’s constant presence was starting to grate on his rather overwrought nerves. 

There was this strange noise that he kept hearing. Whenever he started planning how he would do this, how he would set his friends free to enjoy their lives, he could hear this whooshing sound, as if he was caught in the grip of a whirlpool that kept spinning him around. It was driving him to distraction and was one of the reasons he did something that he knew he would never normally do, something that made him feel like the monster the others reassured him he was not. 

“Please, Jaskier. I need to get better at my singing so that I have more control over my voice and then I can make the weird screamy magic I do a bit more controlled. Yennefer said that if I can gain more control over my voice, I might be able to practice it some more over the summer.” 

Jaskier snapped, knowing even as the words came flying out of his mouth with far more venom than Ciri deserved that this was going to end badly but unable to stop. “If Yennefer thinks it’s so important, why don’t you fucking ask her? I have more important things to do right now, Ciri!” 

Ciri looked up at him with tears swimming in her emerald eyes. “But ... you said that you would turn me into a little bardling, that you would help me learn how to sing better. And Yennefer said...” 

“I don’t give a shit what Yennefer said! Go and bother her, leave me the fuck alone for ten gods damned minutes. Sweet Melitele, is a man not allowed peace anymore!” 

In a flurry of tears, Ciri went flying out of the room. Jaskier swore under his breath. There was no point doing anything now, he was likely to get a face full of pissed off sorceress in a few minutes. 

Sure enough, Yennefer came flying up the stairs, dress stained with the by-products of her experiments and hair wild with her fury. “What the fuck did you say to Ciri?” 

Jaskier pulled a face at her. “The girl is driving me insane. She won’t leave me alone, Yennefer, so I told her to go and bother someone else. I might have been a bit sharper than usual, but it’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Really,” she snarled. Her violet eyes were alight with her anger. “From the sounds of it, you almost crushed the poor thing’s heart. She’s been worried about you, said you were acting odd, and then you fly off the handle at her. You need to get your shit together and take your anger out on someone else, not a fucking child.” 

“Oh my apologies,” Jaskier snarked right back. “I forgot that you are completely perfect in all ways and have never upset her at all. Leave me the fuck alone, Yennefer, hell all of you need to piss off for a bit. You all get to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation and then when I do it you all get on my case. Fuck off.” 

Eskel came slinking into the room cautiously. “Guys, do you want to lower the volume a bit. Geralt and Lambert are trying to get Ciri to stop crying and everytime she hears you yelling at each other it sets her off again.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier hissed, turning his back on the pair of them. He tried to ignore the pained intake of breath from behind him. This was not how it was meant to go, he was meant to leave them all with happy memories of their time together so that no one would worry, but he just needed some time to himself to process everything and he couldn’t do that if he was never bloody left alone. 

“So all that shit you had us do to make sure we weren’t fighting, that just doesn’t apply to you, does it? Because you’re the amazing Jaskier, master of all emotions including pining for fucking years over the man who broke your fucking heart. I’m very impressed.” Yennefer laughed harshly. He didn’t have to turn to look at her to see the pain and anger he could hear in her voice. 

“Yennefer,” Eskel cautioned, but the mage had clearly had enough. 

“No, he needs to fucking hear this. We have all been tiptoeing around and trying to make him feel better, but he needs to face the fucking facts.” 

Jaskier sucked in a pained breath. That was a fucking low blow and she knew it. He could hear Eskel panicking quietly in the doorway but ignored him. He could hear water rushing in his ears, blocking out any trace of rational thought. “I fucking know that he will never love me, Yennefer, so you can piss right off. I am quite aware that I’m deluding myself, so thank you very much for pointing it out again. And of course all that stuff applies to me too, but sometimes a person just needs some fucking space. All of you lot get to fuck off and do whatever you want while I get stuck on babysitiing duty. I just need five fucking minutes where I don’t have to solve everyone’s problems or deal with anyone’s fucking shit, it that too fucking much to ask for?” Jaskier was panting with his anger at this point, trying to ignore the way that it felt like he was caught in a current, being ripped along faster and faster with no chance to stop and think about what he was saying. 

“Well, enjoy your fucking space then, asshole. If you’re going to act like this, you can have all the fucking space you want,” Yennefer screamed back at him. “Come on Eskel, let’s leave him to his fucking space.” Jaskier turned to see Yennefer dragging a stunned Eskel out of the room. She waved her hand over her shoulder as she left and the door slammed shut behind them, leaving Jaskier alone in silence that seemed far too heavy and oppressive. 

He sunk to the floor and curled up into a ball. Why the fuck had he gone off like that. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, to hurl the venom at them, but there was a tiny part of him that was so mad. Mad that they would all have the most amazing summers and come to care for each other more and more while he would be alone, so far away from them all. He knew it was the right thing to do, the only thing he could do to make sure that they all had the lives that they deserved and didn’t have to spend their time dealing with his drama, but it still wasn’t fair. 

Jaskier curled up into a ball and started weeping for all of the time he would lose. All of the opportunities to see them happy and learning to enjoy life. He ignored the fact that his tears seemed to be producing far too much water to be natural, the floor of the room quickly flooding as he sobbed. It was just another example of what a fucking burden he was, he couldn’t even be miserable like a normal person. No,everything about Jaskier was always too much and so he needed to find a way to let his friends, his family, flourish without him. 

It was the best thing for everyone, no matter how hollow and empty he felt at the thought of the long days ahead of him. He would be fine, he should have learnt long ago that he was better off alone and now he would just have another reminder. Everyone got along just fine without him, so he would just have to suck it up and remove himself from the equation. Today was just further evidence that it would be the best thing for everyone. If he wasn’t there, they wouldn’t have to worry about him hurting them. 


	72. You are the driftwood and the rift

Jaskier continued to cry to himself for far longer than he would have expected. Somehow, the tears just wouldn’t stop falling. There had to be some kind of magic going on, because there was now a pool of water flooding the room that wasn’t flowing out under the door, instead it was collecting around Jaskier in a pool that was steadily deepening as he sobbed like his heart was being ripped from his chest. He knew that he should probably be worried about it or something, but he was far too busy hating himself for snapping at Ciri like that and fighting with Yennefer. All he had wanted was some space to get rid of that awful sound of water flowing and start preparing for his exit from the keep, but instead he had managed to cause a huge fight and upset pretty much everyone. That was the last thing he wanted to do and he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. Why it always happened, he always drove people away and always would. 

If the fucking rushing sound in his head would just leave for a while, maybe then he could find a way to fix things. But the more he cried the louder it got and so he cried more and the cycle seemed like it would never end. Perhaps he would finally cry himself out of existence and all that the witchers would find when they came looking for him would be the puddle of tears. How upset would they really be, especially with the way he had just yelled at Ciri? They might even be glad to be free of him and his prying in their lives. It would certainly make for a quieter life without the overly verbose bard following them around like a puppy dog. 

Jaskier’s pity fest for one was interrupted by the door opening and Geralt stalking in. The witcher hmmed at the sight of the fossegrim curled up in his perfect circle of water, moving cautiously to the edge of the water and poking at it with a foot. When the water didn’t react in any way and Jaskier left out another awful gasping sob, he stepped into the water and sat down beside Jaskier, maneuvering the limp man until he was curled up with his head in Geralt’s lap. The witcher awkwardly rested one hand on the bard’s head and started patting him, almost as if he was trying to copy the way that Jaskier played with Ciri’s hair to calm her after a nightmare. 

Jaskier made a choked noise and tried to pull away but was held in place by gentle hands. He whimpered softly. It felt like those hands were the only thing stopping him from melting away into the water like the ice sculpture he felt like inside. “If you need to cry, keep going. I’ll be here, Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice was awkward, as if he had no idea how to deal with the clearly distressed bard, but his hands were so strong, like rocks that Jaskier could hurl all of his emotions at and leave undamaged. 

Geralt’s words had Jaskier sobbing harder. He didn’t deserve to be comforted after what he had done to Ciri. His lion cub was probably so hurt and upset, and rightly so, at the way that Jaskier had taken all his frustrations out on her. How could he face her again after this. How could he face any of them after screaming at both Yennefer and Ciri like a petulant child after all that talk of learning to express their feelings in positive ways. Gods, he was such a hypocrite, why the hell couldn’t he stop himself from self destructing like this all the time. 

Things like this were why he had always thought his parents had hated him, why the few friends he had had in Oxenfurt always left him, why even Geralt had yelled at him on the Path. Whenever he had something nice he always ran his fat mouth and ruined it. Maybe he should take an oath of silence, have a mage spell him silent for the next ten years and see if that made his life any better. Although, his current plan of pursuing the life of a fossegrim in some remote lake or something was probably a less dramatic alternative with the same results. He just needed to not be around people that he could piss off with his endless words. 

“If it helps, Ciri is alright. She was upset at first, but I think most of it was shock.” Geralt offered after a moment of silence. “She kept asking Yennefer if maybe you had been possessed, she was so worried because it was so out of character for you. Eskel had to promise to come up and check before she would stop crying, and he had to tell her five times that his medallion hadn’t hummed at all so there was nothing supernatural going on beyond you being a fossegrim.” 

“I yelled at her, Geralt. I should never have yelled at her, it wasn’t fair,” Jaskier choked out between sobs. The water was still rising, now almost a couple of inches thick. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, it seemed like the water was taking over him and he was scared that he would just drift away in the current and never be able to find his way back. 

Geralt hummed again and Jaskier tried to focus on the sound as an anchor, the familiar tones echoing in his head and pushing back the rising tide for just a few moments. “Ciri knows that you didn’t mean anything by it. You’ve been weirdly on edge the last few days, we’ve all noticed. We thought that if we left you to it, you would come to us if it became too much but she’s well aware that it isn’t her that made you mad, it’s whatever you have going on in that head of yours. I swear Jaskier, sometimes I can almost smell the smoke from you thinking far too hard about things.” 

“It’s still no excuse. She’s been through so much, I shouldn’t be adding to it,” Jaskier said, not feeling up to responding to the teasing tone in Geralt’s last comment. Geralt huffed, taking a moment to formulate his words before he spoke. He was Jaskier’s opposite in this. Jaskier always maintained the facade of words flowing from his mouth as if there was no thought before they emerged so that individual words could be lost in the torrent flowing from his mouth, and sometimes the facade was rather thin and words did escape him. Geralt always treated his words as if they needed to be carefully formulated and weighted before they could be sent out into the world, as if each one was a potentially hazardous weapon that needed to be used with care and precision. 

“Yes, she has been through a lot, and that’s exactly why she understands. All of us know what it’s like to be so frustrated or scared about something that you end up taking it out on people that you know don’t deserve it. You know her, she’s far too stubborn and loving to take it seriously. That girl terrifies me with her ability to love but I suppose it’s why you two get on so well together. Come on, sit up properly before you start choking on this water. It is rather impressive, but I don’t particularly want Vesemir telling me off if I let you drown.” 

Geralt pulled Jaskier up into a more upright position but maintained their contact, pulling the fossegrim to him so that his head rested on the witcher’s shoulder and he was nestled under that rather large and muscular shoulder. The position made Jaskier feel stupidly safe, as if Geralt would be able to protect him from anything like this, and it made the knife in his heart twist a little more at the idea that he probably wouldn’t have this again once the winter ended. He was just a crutch that they were all using to move further on their journey towards loving themselves as they deserved and it was time for Jaskier to remove himself so that they could blossom like he knew they would. 

“I can smell the smoke again, Jaskier. Whatever you are thinking about, we can deal with it later. Just focus on calming down, you had Yennefer scared when she could feel the magic pouring off of you but she thought it was her fault so now Lambert is having to talk some sense into her. Wow, I never thought I would say that Lambert is the one talking sense into someone.” Jaskier chuckled wetly at Geralt’s astonished tone, feeling the tears slow a bit and the rushing water subside as he lost himself in the witcher’s gravelly voice. “She’s being her usual dramatic self and doing your trick where she blames herself for everything, so once we have you calmed down we can go and show her that she didn’t somehow break you when she yelled at you.” 

Jaskier nodded and tried to slow the sobs that kept shaking his body. “Keep talking? It helps,” he said in a quiet voice. He felt the way that this hum rumbled through the chest pressed against the side of his body and tried to focus on Geralt, on the feel, the smell, and the sound of this rock of a man that was supporting his body as he cried. Geralt started talking in halting tones, telling some tale of a knight going on a quest to earn his true love’s favour that felt like it came straight from a child’s story book. Jaskier felt like he should ask Geralt why this story, but he was too busy trying to drown himself in the rough timbre of his witcher’s voice to calm the flood inside him that kept leaking from his eyes. 


	73. For you, my lungs were pulled asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has a very uncomfortable conversation.

Jaskier had no idea how long they sat there like that for. Long enough for him to finally run out of tears, for the room to start to grow darker as the sun set, and for his body to protest holding the same position for so long. Jaskier felt like a man four times his age with the way his body ached from all of the tears, but Geralt was as unmoving as a mountain besides the hand that wove through his hair and the steady flow of stories that flowed from the man. He had moved on from stories of knights errant and onto stories of growing up with Eskel, Lambert, and Vesemir around him. 

When Jaskier was sure that the tears were truly gone, that the slightest movement wasn’t going to set him off again, he moved stiffly, turning to look up at Geralt. “Thank you,” he muttered, feeling wrung out and embarrassed that the man had had to put up with his theatrics for so long. Gods, he was such a pain in the ass for everyone. 

“It’s fine, Jaskier. How many times have you dealt with my shit after a hunt or when I’m in a foul mood. It’s what ... friends do.” Jaskier barely noticed the slight pause in the man’s words, too busy hating the fact that Geralt felt as if he was obligated to deal with any problems that the bard had just because he had done the same for him. “Stop thinking, honestly. I can see it in your face, Jaskier. That look only means more trouble.”

“Sorry,” Jaskier said ducking his face away. Geralt took his chin in a calloused hand, tilting his head so that he looked up into the witcher’s amber eyes. 

“Stop apologising, just don’t let your thoughts consume you. I can almost see them drowning you.” Geralt frowned in frustration. “Come on, we need to go and find Vesemir. He’s better at this shit than I am, I’ll just fuck it up again.” Geralt moved to his feet, pulling Jaskier with him and keeping fold of the bard as if he was worried that he would dissolve into water if he didn’t keep a firm hold of him. Jaskier was more thankful for the solid grip around his bicep, he felt as if his legs would give out on him at any moment but there was no way in hell he was admitting that aloud. 

Jaskier allowed Geralt to half carry, half escort him out of the room, letting out a choked laugh when he felt the puddle that had been holding form for so long suddenly lose its shape and gush around their feet and down the stairs with them. Geralt cursed under his breath and tightened his grip on Jaskier as if worried that he would slip. Jaskier let out a quick trill and the water all coalesced into a single ribbon that went streaming out of the window before it could work its way into other rooms and start ruining things. Geralt gave him an unreadable look at his open display of magic and Jaskier wilted under his regard. With another grunt that held more emotion than Jaskier could unpack, Geralt kept them moving down towards the great hall. 

Jaskier tried not to hide behind the witcher as he entered the room. They were all there, Yennefer and Ciri both with tear stained faces, and staring at him as Geralt almost dragged him towards them. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, hating the pain on their faces. “I know that what I said was inexcusable, but I would still like to apologise. I was in the wrong and I shouldn’t have taken out my own problems on you. I am so sorry.”

“Jaskier, stop,” Yennefer interrupted, waving away his words with a determined look on her face. “We all yell at each other every now and then and we’re all sensible enough to know that sometimes we all say things that we don’t mean. No one is mad at you, we’re just worried.” 

“No, I yelled at Ciri. You shouldn’t be worried about me, I was so awful to her,” Jaskeir protested. 

“I’m fine, Jaskier, honestly,” Ciri said, bouncing forward and going to take his hands in hers. He winced and stepped back into Geralt, subconsciously trying to hide from her. She stopped, looking between them quizzically before shaking her head and continuing. “I could see that something was worrying you and I thought that if I just kept you busy enough, it would all go away. I was being annoying and you were right to point it out, just maybe do it a bit nicer next time? Or then I will have to start using you for training practice like i do with Geralt when he’s silly and says things he doesn’t mean.” 

Jaskier blinked at shock at her ready acceptance of his erratic behaviour while Vesemir chuckled and clapped her on the back. “That’s our girl. You’re far better with emotions than any of these idiots, Ciri. And if any of them get mean to you, you come to me. I’ll sort out these pups if any of them get smart.” Ciri beamed up at Vesemir in response. “But now I need you to go with Yennefer for a minute. I need to have a chat with this particular idiot and I don’t want him worrying about you overhearing it, you understand?” 

Ciri frowned for a moment before nodding mulishly. Yennefer was the one who kicked up a fuss, shooting Vesemir a venomous glare. “Why the hell would I not be here for this conversation?” 

Vesemir refused to be intimidated. He turned a stern look on the angry mage and kept his tone unshakable as the stone the keep was made of. “Because you are the one who has a habit of invading people’s privacy and plucking things out of their heads before they are ready to say them. Jaskier is going to be having a very open and frank discussion, and I will not have him feeling pressured to say things from fear that someone will go snooping through his mind. The boys can fill you in on anything important later, but right now I need you to go and keep Ciri entertained. Can you do that, Yennefer?” 

Yennefer kept up her glare for a moment more before turning in a whirl of hair and skirts to take Ciri’s hand and lead her off. “Come, Ciri. I think I shall teach you how to make a potion that has a man feeling as if his genitals are shriveling away. You can never have too much of it available.” Ciri giggled in delight, throwing one last concerned glance over her shoulder before following Yennefer excitedly. The men in the room all winced in concert at the prospect. 

“Shit, should we really be letting the crazy dangerous witch teach our Ciri things like that?” Lambert said. The others shrugged before Vesemir turned on Jaskier. The bard tried once again to slink back and found himself pressed against Geralt’s chest even more. 

“Right, Jaskier. Did you ever get a chance to read those books I gave you on fossegrims?” Vesemir started with. Jaskier shook his head meekly and tried to ignore the sigh that Vesemir gave. “And I don’t suppose that you have been particularly interested in going through the knowledge that the fossegrim that sired you passed on either, have you?” When Jaskier shook his head again Vesemir rubbed at his brow and shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe I shouldn’t have slept with those priestesses, having such ignorant pups must surely be punishment for it.” 

The three younger witchers all went pale at the idea of their father figure getting up to no good with women of faith but Vesemir waved them away. “I guess we had better start from the beginning then. So, fossegrims tend to be fairly territorial creatures. They develop bonds with particular places, stretches of water or the people who live nearby them. That’s why there are stories of them wiping out entire villages that start polluting their waterways or threaten one of their chosen people. From what you have all told me, I assume that your sire developed a similar kind of bond to your sister. He would see her almost as a belonging, one that he needs to protect and keep happy. That would be why he passed on as much information to you as he did rather than just attacking, he would have wanted to keep Madeline pleased and helping you would clearly do that.” 

Jaskier was following all of this with an air of confusion that he could see mirrored in his puppies faces. None of them seemed to see where Vesemir was going with this. 

“If a fossegrim is for some reason separated from their bonded person or place, it can cause great distress. Even the idea of not having access to that cond can cause dramatic changes in a fossegrim, loss of weight, interest in usual pastimes, extreme fluctuations in mood, and it has been reported by some unusually forthcoming volunteers that they can experience great mental distress, as if their minds are a whirlpool threatening to drown them.” 

Jaskier paled at these words, trying to wriggle from Geralt’s grip. So what if he had lost a bit of weight recently, he just hadn’t felt like indulging in the way he usually did. And there was no way there was something supernatural going on with him, he was just rather preoccupied with his plans. And the bloody whooshing of the water in his ears was picking up again, almost drowning out Vesemir’s words. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone for a while so that he could get himself back under control, was that too much to ask for? 

“Jaskier, really. Did you think that four witchers and a mage would not notice the changes in you. The others wanted to give you some space, thinking that it might just be some distress over the way that everyone is making plans for the summer, but I’ve been keeping an eye on all my pups. You flinch any time someone talks about what will happen after the snow melts. You barely touch your food, I’ve seen you slipping bits to Ciri to make it look like you’ve eaten more than you have. You sit silently staring out of a window for long periods of time and then you are almost manic in your enthusiasm at any little thing. Even now, you seem to be listening to something that we cannot hear, what is it?” 

“No, it’s nothing, I’m fine, honestly. You’re getting over excited for nothing, I’m just a little tired is all,” Jaskier tried to explain, hating the way his voice was thin and thready after all of the crying. Gods, he needed to sound confident and sure of himself, not like he was on the brink of another crying meltdown. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled, placing a hand soothingly on his shoulder. 

  
“No, Geralt, it’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with me, no bond thing or anything, and even if there was there would be no issues because what the hell would I be bonded to? I’m a traveller, I don’t stay in a place long enough to grow too attached.” 

“Did you not listen to me, it can be a person or people just as easily as a place. And if you don’t think that after all these years of looking after young witchers I don’t recognise the look of someone preparing themselves to disappear in the middle of the night then you have another thing coming.” 

Eskel, Lambert, and Geralt all sucked in a breath at that, turning accusing eyes on Jaskier who squirmed under their gazes and tried to deny it all. 

“You wouldn’t be the first idiot who thinks that everyone would be better off without him in these walls and there is no way in hell that I will be letting you go through with whatever idiotic plan you have cooked up in that head of yours. I’ve lost too many boys that way, thinking that everyone would get on better without them and that if they could only remove themselves then everyone would be so much happier and never bloody miss them. I am not having your face join the blood line up of ghosts I see at night Jaskier, even if I have to look you in the bloody dungeons.” Vesemir’s chest was heaving with his repressed emotion but his voice had never raised in volume. The witcher seemed totally in control while Jaskier was now fighting wildly against Geralt’s grip on his arm, letting out little cut off sobs as he tried to escape. 

Lambert and Eskel were looking at the bard in horror. Jaskier didn’t dare look up at Geralt’s face, couldn’t face what he might see there. He didn’t know if it would be worse if the witcher seemed just as disturbed as his brothers or if he seemed to approve of Jaskier’s plan. Either one would add another wound to the bard’s heart. He hadn’t wanted to do this to them, force them to bring up painful memories. He just wanted them all to be happy. 


	74. How wrong you were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk more about Jaskier's current predicament.

It took Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel to manage to calm Jaskier down. He kept trying to get away from them, frantically sobbing out that they were all overreacting and that he was fine even as he tried to claw his way out of their arms. When he finally ran out of energy and fell limp in their arms, he was horrified to see that all of them had the same devastated look on their faces. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid and, as usual, he had fucking it all up again. 

“Jaskier, tell me you weren’t planning on leaving us,” Geralt said urgently, holding Jaskier’s limp body tightly as if afraid that he would disappear. 

“He won’t fucking tell you that, Geralt, he’s obviously planning on leaving us, why else would he react like this. What the fuck did we do wrong this time? Why the fuck would you leave when it seems like everything is finally looking up?” Jaskier sobbed again at the way that Lambert’s voice broke as he spoke even though the witcher was trying to build up his anger to cover it. 

“It wasn’t you, it was never you, it’s just me, I need to go, please, just let me go,” Jaskier gasped between tears. The gods' awful noise in his ears was building and building until Jaskier was scared that he would lose himself to the rushing tide. 

“Boys, back off. Jaskier, focus on us, not whatever you can hear, can you do that?” Vesemir said roughly, grabbing at the younger man’s face and trying to get him to look him in the eye. Jaskier shook his head and tried desperately to suck in breaths between the awful wracking sobs that shook his body. The sounds of Lambert swearing and kicking something, Vesemir calling to Jaskier, and Eskel muttering desperately under his breath about how he shouldn’t have let this go so easily all kept fading in and out of hearing as the water in Jaskier’s head thundered louder and louder. He was going to drift away, like a piece of driftwood in some rapids. 

“Fuck, come on Jaskier, breathe for me,” he heard Geralt rasp, feeling his chest move with his words. Jaskier clung to the sensation, heaving in a desperate breath. 

“Keep talking, Geralt,” Jaskier heard Vesemir say as the water rose to claim him again. “For some reason your voice is cutting through it, we just need him to get past it all.” 

And then Geralt was talking, awkward, hesitant sentences about how much trouble Jaskier would be in if he made Geralt explain to Yennefer and Ciri that their favourite bard had cried himself to death and then some stupid story about a monster hunt gone wrong that he had gone on several years ago. Jaskier clung to every word as if it was a life line, trying to swim against the tide in his head. It took several long minutes before he could calm himself enough to focus on anything but Geralt’s voice, the rest of the world swimming slowly into view as the rushing noise thumping through his head seemed to calm for a moment. 

“Good, Jaskier, good job. Keep breathing for us. You’re safe here and we can figure it all out once you’ve calmed down.” He could hear Vesemir repeating his assurances again and again, his steady voice mingling with that of Geralt and the other two witchers who were having a hushed argument. Jaskier blinked slowly, turning his head to nod in recognition to Vesemir when he felt like he had himself back in hand. 

“I’m alright now. Sorry, I shouldn’t have lost it like that,” Jaskier said in an awful husky voice. He hated the way he sounded so pathetic but his throat felt like he had just been singing his most brutal songs for several weeks straight. 

“Mhm, yes I am sure you would much prefer to have made a quiet exit in the middle of the night but no, this is exactly what you needed.” Vesemir shot the two arguing witchers a quick look and they left their arguing to hover around Jaskier looking both hurt and angry. “What you are going to do now is have a nice calm talk with the four of us, nothing that we need to panic about, just a little chat.” Jaskier nodded weakly from where he hung in Geralt’s arms. He tried to stand on his own feet a bit more but Geralt made a strangely reluctant noise and pulled him closer so Jaskier gave up. 

“Good. Now, what is it that you were just hearing? You were clawing at your ears at one point,” Vesemir pointed out. Jaskier looked down in horror to see blood on his fingers and reached up to feel how he had gouged at the skin around his ears in his panic. 

“Fuck! I didn’t even know ... what’s happening to me?” Jaskier turned a truly pathetic look on Vesemir. “There’s just this noise in my head, like I’m caught in this rushing river and it just gets so loud sometimes I think I’m going to drown in it.” 

“Hm, yes. I thought as much.” Vesemir said in a thoughtful tone. He raised a gentle hand to the bard’s face and wiped away some of his tears. “Jaskier, you have bonded with at least one person here. We can get Yennefer to check out exactly how you have bonded and find a way around it, but clearly you have been fighting against the bond and thinking about leaving your bonded. You're a territorial creature, Jaskier, and your inner magic is fighting against anything that could damage that bond even if that means fighting against yourself. If you don’t sort your shit out, you’re likely to drive yourself mad with it. Now what the hell were you planning? And no crap, we can tell if you’re lying.” 

“Uh, well. I saw the way that everyone seemed to be so much better now with all of these plans for the summer. You are all so much happier, you have these beautiful goals and you have each other to help you. None of you really need me around getting in the way. Hell, I don’t want to slow anyone down on the Path and now that your reputations are all much improved, none of you really need a barker anymore. I would only hold everyone back, so I thought I would make it easier on everyone. I was planning on heading to Oxenfurt, thought I would take up teaching again for a while.” Jaskier bit back the newer plan that he had formulated and hoped that it would be left at that. 

“Jaskier,” the choked cry came from three throats at one, while Vesemir kept up his calm steady gaze on Jaskier’s face. 

“And the rest of it, little bard. You’re clearly holding something back.” How the fuck did he know? Was Jaskier sure that Vesemir wasn’t psychic? 

“Um, I might have entertained the thought of taking some time to connect to my fossegrim side a bit more. Thought I might find a nice lake or something and see what happened.” 

“Right, so you were going to go and indulge in all of your misery alone in a river somewhere and potentially allow your sorrow and your music to consume you. Fantastic. I thought you couldn’t be any stupider, pup. Guess I was wrong.” Vesemir shook his head in dismay but turned a wry smile on Jaskier. “I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised. You are just as self sacrificing as my Geralt here.” 

Both Geralt and Jaskier made offended noises at that comment. Vesemir ignored them. “Since your plan is bullshit based on some stupid idea that everyone would be better off without you around, I’m changing the plan. The new plan is that you are not to be left alone for the rest of the winter, since you can’t be trusted not to disappear off into the darkness like an idiot. Then, once the snows melt, you will be travelling with my pups. I think I can trust them to keep you under control. I’ll have Yennefer draft up a map we can use that will keep track of all of us, that way if we need to meet up at some point during the season we will be able to find each other much faster than following rumours. I’m sure she can charm them to only be readable for us.” 

Eskel made a quiet noise from where he hovered by Lambert. “If you want to go to Oxenfurt, I know that I for one am happy to take a brief break and stay there for a while with you. There are usually a few contracts going in the big cities and the stupid fancy people pay far more than they need to for simple things.” There was another growl from behind Jaskier which he put to the back of his mind to deal with later.

Jaskier made another choked off noise. “This is why I need to leave. You all have more important things to be doing than babysitting me and I can’t live the rest of my life following along behind you all. You have to see that this is easier for everyone.” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Jaskier,” Lambert exploded. “I said I wanted to learn blacksmithing, there should be some fairly competent people in Oxenfurt who could teach me. It wouldn’t be out of my way and if you managed to get some decent accommodation in return for your teaching then you would actually be helping me out. You aren’t a fucking burden, you were bringing in just as much coin as we all were when we travelled together. Stop being an idiot.” 

Jaskier sent a weak smile Lambert’s way. “That’s mainly because you are shit at haggling for your pay. You get annoyed far too quickly and just take whatever they offer you.” 

“Right, so it’s decided then,” Vesemir said gruffly. “And for putting us all through this shit, you’re on potato peeling duty tonight while I see what Yennefer can do for us. Boys, are you willing to babysit him for me? We can figure out a schedule for the last few days of winter later.” 

The three younger witchers nodded seriously and Jaskier let out a resigned sigh. “Fine, I guess I deserve it.” 

“Oh, and if you pull any more shit like this young man, you will be in so much fucking trouble. I am sure the boys can fill you in on what happens when you attempt stupid shit on my watch. Behave.” With that, Vesemir stalked out of the room and off to find Yennefer. His three pups shuddered in memory before Geralt turned Jaskier so that the bard was facing him. 

“Please don’t leave us. We can’t do this without you,” he said in a quiet, soft voice. Jaskier looked at Geralt in shock. He had never seen the man this distressed before. 

“I promise I won’t do anything without talking with everyone beforehand,” Jaskier replied. He held Geralt’s gaze for a moment, trying to sort through all of the emotions swimming in those beautiful enigmatic golden pools. 

“Let’s go. Knowing Vesemir, there is a small mountain of potatoes for you to get through and trust me, you don’t want to piss him off in this mood,” Eskel said. Jaskier chuckled weakly and pulled away from Geralt’s hold to follow him. He heard Lambert stop Geralt and mutter something just too low to be heard in his ear, but he was too busy following Eskel to worry about it. He had no more emotion left in him to deal with any more drama today, he was just going to peel some potatoes and then take a nap. 


	75. I promise you there’s more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has to deal with the fall out of his choices.

Jaskier was half way through the absolute mountain of potatoes that needed peeling when Yennefer and Ciri walked into the room. Eskel and Lambert had refused to help, sneaking glares at Jaskier when he wasn’t looking at them in their anger over his plan to leave. Geralt had sighed and grabbed a knife, silently happening and gently knocking a shoulder into Jaskier’s, being careful of the knives, when the bard seemed to get lost in his thoughts and stopped peeling for a moment. He both appreciated and resented the amount of care that Geralt was taking of him, but was about to say something about it when Yennefer came barreling in. 

“So, I talked to Vesemir,” Yennefer stated in a tightly controlled voice. Jaskier turned to see her wearing that smirking mask she usually used on the stupid nobles and winced at what was to come. 

“Do we have to do this right now, Yennefer? It’s been a rather long day,” Jaskier said wearily, grabbing another potato. He didn’t know if he was up to having another emotional conversation just after what he had gone through with the witchers, but it didn’t look like he was going to have a choice. 

“Oh, so would you like me to wait until you disappear off into the night like a fucking criminal before we talk about this? Or would it be better for you if we waited a few fucking years, Hm?” Yennefer stalked towards him, her hair crackling with her anger. Jaskier heard the siren song of the water stir gently in the back of his mind and tried to brush it aside. 

“Yenna, you promised me and Vesemir that you wouldn’t yell. Please,” Ciri said, pulling at Yennefer’s hand. Yennefer looked down into her eyes for a moment, the pair of them seeming to have a whole conversation with one look. Hell, for all Jaskier knew they were, he had overheard Yennefer talking about teaching Ciri telepathy a while ago. Yennefer sighed and turned to Jaskier again with a slightly less hostile look. 

“I’m putting a tracking rune on you, right now. There is no way in hell we are all letting you disappear off into the night, so hold still for a moment.” With no more fanfare than that Yennefer pricked her finger with a knife she must have had secreted in her dress and yanked the back of Jaskier’s collar down to sketch something on the nape of his neck. Jaskier winced at the sudden bite of pain but allowed it without question. He knew better than to start this fight right now. 

“Yennefer, seriously!” Geralt snapped. Jaskier blinked at him in shock. “Do you have to just run rampant all over everyone? You could at least pretend that he had a choice in the matter.” 

Jaskier tried to catch his eye and shake away his defence of the bard. There was no need for it, he knew from what Vesemir had said that this was coming. 

“Shut up, Geralt. Like you wouldn’t be screaming at me to track him down in some way if he managed to get away from us. At least this way we won’t have to go traipsing all over the bloody Continent if he continues to be an idiot and think about avoiding us. I’m not letting him get away that easily, not after all the shit he’s put us through.” There were tears welling in her eyes as she spoke and she angrily dashed them away. 

Jaskier’s heart continued to break in his chest at the sight of such a strong woman crying over his choices. “Yenna, I never wanted to hurt you,” he started. 

“No, you don’t get to say you didn’t want to hurt us when you were planning on leaving us. I don’t think you could do anything that would hurt us more. Why the hell would you try to leave us, Jaskier?” Yenenfer wasn’t even trying to hide her tears at this point, Ciri clinging to her side with her own tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Yennefer, now is not the time, come on,” Geralt tried to deflect. Jaskier shook his head, laying a hand on Geralt’s arm reassuringly. He didn’t want Geralt to feel as if he had to manage the others on his behalf, he was a big kid and could deal with the consequences of his choices. 

“It’s fine, Geralt. They deserve answers. I thought that I was doing the right thing, that you would all be so much happier without me around. You are all so much happier now, getting along so well and making plans for the rest of the year. You don’t need me around slowing you all down so I was just going to make it easier on all of you and give you all some space.” 

Yennefer was shaking her head and glaring at him as he spoke. “What the fuck made you think that we would be happier without you? You are the reason that we are happy, you fucking moron. Why else do you think Lambert now knows how to express his emotions with anything other than anger? Or that Eskel isn’t constantly lurking in shadows where he can try and avoid being noticed? Even Geralt is happier, he talks a hell of a lot more than he ever did before and you know that you’re the reason for that. You’ve helped to give Ciri some of the childhood that she deserves and you’ve been the best fucking friend I have ever had, the only one that I know has been my friends without any expectations of it helping you out in the future. And you think that we would all be better off without you around? Are you going fucking insane or something? Geralt, has he been hit on the head recently?”

Jaskier was a bit shell shocked at her words and then even more so when the mage launched at him. Geralt managed to grab the knife from him before he suddenly had an armful of sobbing sorceress. He tried to breathe through the mass of black curls all in his face and held her tight. “Don’t you fucking leave me, Jaskier. Don’t you fucking dare,” Yennefer sobbed. 

“I won’t, come on, Yenna honey, calm down,” Jaskier tried to soothe her. 

Yennefer thumped him in the side. “Don’t you make promises that you don’t mean to keep. If you say you’re going to stay then you are fucking staying. I can’t have someone else give me up, not again.” She pulled back to glare at him harshly before dissolving into another flood of sobs, clinging to him and making the front of his shirt damp. 

Jaskier winced, not having realised that his plans had probably brought up hard memories for those of them that had been left behind by their parents. “It’s alright, honey, I won’t be going anywhere for the rest of the winter at least and we can make plans from there.” 

Yennefer pulled back to stare searchingly into his eyes, checking how heartfelt his words were. She seemed to be satisfied, pulling back with a little sniff and then glaring with red rimmed eyes around at the witchers as if daring them to comment. They wisely looked away from her and with another little sniff she stormed from the room. 

Ciri looked up at Jaskier. “Please don’t leave me, Jaskier. I can’t lose someone else.” 

“Oh, sweetheart! I am so sorry if you thought that I would leave you. I would always check in on you, I promise. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Jaskier shot her a watery grin and she took the space that Yennefer had just occupied, wrapping her arms around him with surprising strength. She clutched at him as if she could somehow crawl inside him and Jaskier tried not to sob again at the thought that he had hurt his darling cub. 

“Ciri, come on. Let go of Jaskier and let him get back to his potatoes. You don’t want him getting in trouble with Vesemir, do you?” Geralt said, pulling gently at her hair when he saw the way that Jaskier’s bottom lip wouldn’t stop quivering. Jaskier sent him a thankful look when Ciri pulled back and jumped up to sit beside them on the counter, pulling a knife from somewhere and starting to peel some potatoes herself and turning to Lambert and Eskel where skulking in the shadows to start prattling away about what she wanted them to teach her in their next fighting lesson. 

Geralt bumped his shoulder into Jaskier’s again gently. “You alright?” he said in a low voice, nodding at the way that Jaskier’s hands shook slightly where he held the knife he had taken back from Geralt. 

Jaskier looked down at his hands and chuckled darkly. “Nothing I don’t deserve. Don’t worry about me,” he said, trying to make sure that Ciri did not overhear him. He heard twin growls from the shadows and Geralt put a soothing hand over his, stilling his potatoes peeling action for a moment. 

“No, Jaskier. There is no who deserves what here. You are clearly upset and that is an issue. Come on, these knuckleheads can finish off the potatoes, you and me are heading down to the hot springs. With that Geralt put both of their knives on the bench, shot Lambert and Eskel’s complaining a dark look, and pulled Jaksier out of the kitchen and off to the springs. He couldn’t deny that a soak in the water sounded amazing to his exhausted body.


	76. The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt talk in the hot springs.

The hot springs seemed like a godsend to Jaskier but Geralt seemed rather uncomfortable. They had run into Vesemir on their way down who had scowled at them at first, but once Geralt mentioned that Yennefer had been to see them he seemed to understand. They talked briefly about the map that Yennefer was enchanting before they left him, heading down to the springs in near silence. 

Jaskier was quick to drop his clothes and clamber into the water. He almost missed the way that Geralt’s breath hissed out of him before he followed suit. Jaskier turned to look at him questioningly and wondered if the water was warmer than usual to bring so much colour to Geralt’s face. He shook his head and quickly submerged himself, letting the embrace of the water soothe muscles tired from his long crying session. 

When he surfaced Geralt’s cat eyes were fixed on his face with disconcerting focus. Jaskier quirked an eyebrow at him in question and grinned when Geralt ducked behind his hair to avoid his notice. 

“Thank you, for being so nice to me after all this shit. I know that everyone else is pissed off at me, so it’s nice to have someone not wanting to strangle me in my sleep.” Jaskier tried to paste his usual cocky grin on his face but must have failed. Geralt looked less than amused. 

“I know what it’s like, Jaskier, to try and do the right thing and then find out that what you’ve done has just made everything so much worse. You know that I know this, so why would I be mad at you for doing something that I have done so many times before. And the others will come around, they just need some time. They just feel hurt that you would leave them, they haven’t had the time to think through your reasons yet. Once they do, I am sure they will be fine.” Geralt was fidgeting with his hands as he spoke, sneaking glances up at Jaskier through his eyelashes. He looked disarmingly sweet like this, all of his harsh edges softened by the steam and the water. 

It was moments like these that Jaskier had to harden his heart against the urge to coo and try to pet Geralt’s disgustingly attractive face. But petting would mean feeling that beautiful stubble on his skin and running his fingers over that devastating jaw line and ... Jaskier was a simple bard and would most likely explode if he was able to touch that much attractiveness. Assuming that Geralt didn’t kill him for taking liberties, it was a fifty fifty chance as to whether the witcher would kill him or just glare him to death if he ever pushed his luck like that. 

“You’re too sweet, Geralt, always have been. No, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have thought that I knew best, especially after all that shit about us having to communicate like sensible people. I was an idiot and I deserve the way that people are mad at me. You don't need to try and mediate.” 

“Jaskier, stop trying to make my decisions for me,” Geralt said in a weary voice. “If I want to stand between you and the others being mad at you, then I will. If I think that what you need right now is to feel as if you are still a part of whatever the hell the lot of us are rather than just being screamed at and made to feel more and more like you don’t belong, then that’s exactly what I am going to do. We both know that there’s no way in hell you could stop me.”Geralt flashed him that wolfish smile that just about stopped his heart and Jaskier was hearing blood pounding in his ears for a completely different reason than he had during all the crying. 

It was a good thing that the air was thick enough with steam to conceal most of their bodies, because Jaskier’s was taking on a life of it’s own and reacting to the proximity of a gloriously naked and strangely emotionally vulnerable Geralt. He tried not to blush horrifically and instead busied himself playing with the water, making it dance in patterns across the surface and grinning at the wonder in Geralt’s face. 

“See, there are some pros to this whole creature thing. I at least get to play with the water and do all sorts of fancy shit with it.” 

Geralt grunted in consideration. “So what else can you do? I assume you can do something slightly more impressive than just make some waves?” The challenging tone of his voice and the playful light in his eyes did something to Jaskier’s inside. 

“How dare you, sir!” he said, happy to settle back into their usual teasing camaraderie. This was something that he knew and could work with, something comfortable for both of them. “I can do lots of things, when my stupid fossegrim instinct isn’t making me cry weird puddles that form a perfect circle. I can do this for one,” and Jaskier conjured his lute of water again, strumming it gently. 

“Let’s see if it’s better than your usual caterwauling then,” Geralt teased. Jaskier narrowed his eyes at him and started on a rendition of  _ Toss a Coin _ , grinning spitefully when Geralt winced at his song choice. 

The witcher listened intently to his song, eyes closed to better focus on the sounds Jaskier was coaxing from the water and his throat. It was a rather impressive rendition of the song, if Jaskier did say so himself, and he sketched a dramatic bow at Geralt when he finished and those mesmerizing cat eyes slowly slid open to regard him. 

“So, Geralt. Three words or less,” he joked, laughing as Geralt sighed at the reference to a previous conversation. 

“It sounds different,” he said gruffly. 

Jaskier pouted. “Is that really all you are going to give me? Different? What does that even mean, Geralt? Different how?” 

“You said three words or less,” the witcher argued, his eyes alight with mischief. “And it was different. The sound is oddly crystalline, clearly magical in nature and almost reminiscent of a siren’s song in the way that the notes reverberate beyond the usual human range of hearing. Your voice is also slightly different, much smoother and without any of the imperfections that every human voice would have. You inhale less as well, allowing you to sing for longer without having to pause and making the song more a web of sound than it usually would be.” 

Jaskier blinked at the witcher slightly. “Well, I have to say that it is slightly off putting to have you analyse me like you would a creature that you were about to hunt. Um, I don’t know if I should be thanking you for the compliment or trying to avoid your big witchery swords right now.” 

Geralt hummed, looking awkward. “I would never hurt you, Jaskier. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.” The witcher turned away, looking as if he was about to exit the pool. Jaskier was having none of that, quickly fashioning a rope of water and tugging his feet out from under him and then catching him with a surge of water so that when the witcher surfaced, scowling at Jaskier as he pushed his hair out of his eyes, the bard almost fell under the water himself laughing. The witcher looked like a cat that had been doused in water, his resentment at his current predicament almost radiating off of him. 

“Like I could be scared of a big softie like you. Look at you, all soaking wet and helpless. I bet even I could take you in a fight now, if I was so inclined.” Jaskier preened, puffing out his chest at the idea. 

Geralt made a weird choked noise, his eyes stuck on Jaskier’s chest for a moment before he seemed to catch himself and looked up into Jaskier’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure there’s still a few things that I could do, like this.” Before Jaskier could react, Geralt lunged across the pool, grabbing Jaskier’s ankle and yanking so that the bard went sliding under the water, spluttering as he surfaced with a mischievous glare at Geralt. 

“Oh, it is so on,” he said, sending a large wave to smack Geralt in the face. With a laugh, the two of them started splashing widely, laughing like maniacs as they fought. 

Jaskier was so glad that Geralt seemed to know him so well, that the witcher knew when he needed to just let his feelings out and when he needed a distraction. The witcher had held him when he needed to cry and now was willing to engage in a stupid, childish water fight to distract him from the sadness that lingered at the edges of his mind. 

Geralt was perfect for him, in all ways, apart from the fact that Jaskier was certain that if he was to ever confess his love to the man he would end up punched in the face. Geralt was just an amazing friend, and Jaskier had to focus on how much richer his life was for having him in it rather than imagining some magical fantasy world where his feelings were reciprocated. Looking at those beautiful cat eyes, so alight with excitement and fun, Jaskier wondered if he would ever be able to reconcile the two desires in his heart. But damn if he would ever be able to give up moments like this. He would just have to make sure that he was especially nice to Geralt to make up for all of the kindness the witcher was throwing his way. 


	77. Love’s worth running to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find out more about Jaskier's bond.

The next few days were painful, but Jaskier felt as if he deserved them. He was not allowed to be alone for longer than it took to use the bathroom, one of the others constantly hovering beside him. He knew that they were all just worried that his sudden meekness was a trick and that at some point he would try to run off into the night, but it was still rather irritating to not have a moment to himself. 

Yennefer was one of the worst. Whenever she was on idiot-duty as she called it, she pulled him down into the rooms she had taken over as her research station and had him organising her notes and writing out requests for further information to send to various places around the Continent. Any attempt to protest her decision to use him as free labour resulted in him getting glares and sad comments about how she was just trying to do something that would actually help out their friends rather than making stupid plans about abandoning all the people who cared for her. 

Eskel and Lambert tended to buddy up on idiot-duty, mainly so that Eskel could rein in Lambert’s fluctuations between melancholy and anger. Eskel’s hurt looks almost hurt worse than Lambert’s screaming sessions about how he would track Jaskier down and drag him back to the keep if he tried to run off. Jaskier knew that he had hurt them both, neither of them was very used to feeling as if people cared for them and the ideas that someone that they had allowed into their little worlds would seemingly abandon them had shaken them. He tried to make up for it, being even more free with his affections and reminding them at any opportunity how amazing the pair of them were and how they would do so many amazing things for so many people. It was easier when the two were helping Ciri practicing her fighting, the girl still a bit wary about Jaskier but expressing her worry by being even more clingy rather than pushing him away. 

Vesemir frequently sat with him when he was composing, working his way through piles of books about various monsters in the library but betraying his protective watchfulness by almost leaping to his feet if Jaskier stood unexpectedly to go and get a book to read or find a place to sit with better lighting. He also enlisted Jaskier in helping him find and copy a map of the Continent, wanting them each to have a copy that Yennefer could enchant so that they could all find each other. He had protested Yennefer placing the rune on him as well, saying that his pups needed it but not him. Yennefer had countered with the idea that it would make them all feel so much safer knowing that they could find Vesemir if they needed help and the older witcher had allowed it, missing the way that his wolf pups grinned at each other at the easy way that Yennefer manipulated the old Alpha of the keep. 

Having Geralt watch him was the most freedom that Jaskier was able to find. The white haired witcher was content to merely be in the same room as him, allowing him the illusion of privacy when he hid somewhere else. He was also the only one who took him out of the keep, annoying the others who deemed Jaskier a flight risk. Geralt shrugged them off and saddled Roach, pulling Jaskier up to sit in front of him and taking him somewhere quiet where Jaskier could entertain himself playing with the snow or playing with the acoustics created by the snow and the mountains while the witcher appeared to nap in the weak sunlight like an overgrown cat. 

Geralt was being oddly kind to him at all times. Jaskier had managed to catch him leaving the flowers that Jaskier had kept finding in his things one day. The witcher had refused to explain himself, merely disappearing off into the keep with a pink face and not reemerging for a few hours. Jaskier had watched him go in bemusement. Maybe the witcher just felt really bad for him, he knew he was looking pretty pathetic at the moment. His skin had paled and despite the way that Geralt piled his plate high at every meal Jaskier was still looking rather gaunt. 

The bloody water sounds were back, seeming to get louder whenever his friends were openly mad or upset with him. Vesemir reassured him that it was merely part of his bond, his fossegrim nature rebelling at the idea that he had caused distress to his bonded. He had whined back that it wasn’t fair that they got to be mad and he had to suffer, but had put up with it quietly for the most part. Yennefer was working on a potion to reveal who exactly he was bonded to and he had overheard the witchers in particular arguing over who it could be. He was worried that it would cause some kind of rift between them if they started to feel jealous over who he had bonded with and who he hadn’t, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He hadn’t even been aware that he had bonded with any of them, let alone how the hell he could make sure that no one felt left out of anything. 

Geralt was the only one who didn’t seem to engage in discussion about Jaskier’s bonding. Whenever it was brought up the witcher pulled a face, seemed to shrink in on himself, and tended to disappear off into the stables to care for Roach and the other horses. Jaskier had tried to talk with him about it, see what concerned him so much, but Geralt had deflected with some comment about how Jaskier’s last song had sounded like a chicken squawking and there was no way that Jaskier could let that go, no matter how obvious his diversion tactics were. 

When Yennefer finally did emerge with the potion, all of the witchers and their little witcherling crowded into Yennefer’s research room to watch. The mage growled and muttered about big oafs messing up her things, but everyone could see that she was just trying to cover up her own nervousness about what was about to happen. Yennefer handed the potion over to Jaskier with a forced calm, ignoring the way that her hands shook just as much as his did. 

He raised it to the light, looking at the deep blue of the liquid carefully before taking a quick sniff of it and wincing at the fumes that poured off of it. “So, you’re certain that this won’t kill me, right? Because I know that you aren’t really pleased with me at the moment but death by strange potion is not really how I wanted to go.” 

Yennefer scoffed at him. “Like I would ever be pedestrian enough to poison you with something this obvious. If I wanted you dead no one would ever be able to trace it back to me and you know it. Bottoms up, fish boy.” 

With a grimace Jaskier tossed the potion back in one quick go, He pulled a face at the awful taste and the way it seemed to trickle down his throat slowly, like sludge found in the bottom of a marsh and with a similar flavour. Yennefer smirked at his face while Ciri bounced around her, peering at Jaskier with curious eyes mirrored by the four sets of cat eyes watching Jaskier intently. “So ... how do we know if this thing worked or not?” Jaskier asked. 

“Oh, just wait a minute,” Yennefer replied, watching him like an experiment she wanted to pin down and dissect. Jaskier shuddered under her gaze and she blinked, warmth seeping back into her eyes. Jaskier was about to make a comment when he saw tendrils of light starting to seep from his chest, questing out in the air around him like tentacles or something. All of them watched carefully, trying to see where they would go. 

They continued to writhe through the air, brushing up against each of the people in the room before they started solidifying. They all seemed to expect one solid line connecting Jaskier to someone, not the web of light that linked him to everyone in the room. When the strands of light reached the chests of those in the room they all shone with light, almost blinding Jaskier where he stood in the middle of it all. 

“Of course. There was no way you could do things normally could you,” Lambert snarked, staring in wonder at the light that touched his chest. The others laughed, grinning at each other in relief. 

“Well, that does explain the severity of your reaction. Having one bond under stress would be bad enough, but to have six at once, it’s a wonder you haven’t gone completely mad.” Vesemir looked faintly impressed while Jaskier ran his hands over the bonds. As he touched each strand he could see the person that it stretched to shudder slightly, as if they could feel his touch in their hearts. 

“How the hell am I bonded to all of you? Vesemir, I thought you knew what was happening, how the hell did this happen?” Jaskier tried to keep the panic out of his voice, not wanting to disrupt the happy smiles on all of the other’s faces. 

“You have always been rather extraordinary, and you do have rather a large capacity to care for others. Clearly this is reflected in your ability to bond with everyone. This will make it rather more challenging over summer, we must ensure that you do not feel as if you are being forced from your bonded while we are all separated. Yennefer, I shall require your assistance over the next few days. The snows are about to start melting, we may need to hurry if we all want to get out there at a decent time.” With that, Vesemir and Yennefer hustled everyone else out of the room, both of them almost vibrating with excitement. 

The witchers and Ciri herded Jaskier back into the pillow fort, all of them snuggling up close to him in contentment. 

“You’re ours now, Jaskier,” Eskel said quietly. “Even your magic says so.” 

Lambert scoffed. “Like we would have let magic separate us even if it had said otherwise. This is just more evidence of Jaskier and his bleeding heart, adopting all the misfits in the Continent. We better make sure we don’t let him near anyone else with a sad sob story, else we might have to add more to the little pack we are forming.” He buried his teaching grin against Jaskier’s side, using him as a pillow. 

Geralt was strangely silent, seemingly content to just hold Jaskier. While Ciri, Eskel, and Lambert had claimed his front, the White Wolf had curled up behind him, snuffling softly in the hair at the nape of Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier could almost feel the joy seeping from his wolf, bleeding into Jaskier so that he grinned at the rest of his friends and nestled back against his white wolf. 


	78. I cannot seem to hear

Yennefer and Vesemir only really left their research to eat or to distribute the maps they had finally finished. They were so focused on their work, consumed by the challenge of keeping Jaskier’s bonds happy while also allowing them all to wander as they needed, that the witchers seemed almost despondent at the lack of attention from their father figure. 

It led to Jaskier having to pull his witchers away from the doors to Yennefer’s research rooms several times while they stood and looked longingly inside. None of them would admit what they wanted, but Yennefer had strictly forbidden them from interrupting unless there was blood or bone to deal with and the witchers were smart enough not to manufacture reasons to get on the mage’s bad side. 

Jaskier spent more time worrying about his witchers than considering the implications of the bonds for himself. He knew that once he had a moment to himself and was able to think about it all, he would probably lose his mind a little, but that was a problem for future Jaskier. Present Jaskier was more concerned about finding a way to make his friends happy, not liking the way that they seemed so upset at not being able to spend the rest of their winter with Vesemir. 

He ended up resorting to slipping letters under Yennefer’s door, leaving quite a few for him as he got more and more upset at seeing his puppies so despondent. It only took a few hours before Vesemir came storming out of the room, grabbed his pups and took them outside and started swinging away at them with a training sword. Jaskier watched with a pleased grin, pulling Ciri to his side and watching them all play like the puppies they were. Yennefer came wandering out, blinking a bit at the sunlight, before joining them. 

It was good to see them all so happy, but once they had finished fighting Yennefer and Vesemir retreated back into what Jaskier was calling their dungeon. Eskel and Lambert pulled Ciri over to give her a go on the pendulum for a while and Geralt pulled Jaskier over to a quieter spot in the courtyard. Jaskier allowed himself to be led, smiling gently up at Geralt’s stern game face he was wearing. 

“Jaskier, when the snow melts and we all leave, I mean, when we all head off on the Path will you, um, I wanted to ask you if you would consider... Fuck.” Jaskier tried his hardest not to laugh at the way that Geralt kept fumbling over his words, glaring at the snow on the ground as if he could make it melt with the frustration in his eyes. 

“Geralt, dear heart, take a deep breath and try again. I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to say whatever it is that has you so worked up.” Jaskier took his hands, smiling softly when the witcher stopped his glaring to look searchingly into the bard’s eyes. He seemed to take some kind of strength from whatever he saw there. 

Geralt took a deep breath and started again. “I wanted to ask, what your plans were for the beginning of spring. And if you maybe, for some reason, wanted to travel with me.” The last bit was mumbled down to the ground again. 

Jaskier’s heart was racing in his chest. “I would love to travel with you again, once Yennefer and Vesemir find a way to make sure I don’t go completely insane with stupid withdrawl. It could be just like old times, you and me travelling the Continent while you be all tough and scary and kill monsters and I sing ballads about your heroics.” Jaskier tried to force the usual enthusiasm, to make it seem like the words didn’t taste like ash in his mouth. He had to pretend that this is all he wanted in the world, to have as much of Geralt as the man would allow. He would go so far as to call them friends if he knew the other man wouldn’t object. 

Geralt looked at Jaskier and swore again. “I didn’t mean like last time, I don’t want it to be like it was before,” he said almost angrily. 

Jaskier recoiled, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. It would be different this time, I know that I can be a bit much and I can work on keeping it down a little. And I won’t be as much of a burden as I was before, I have learnt quite a few things about travelling and living rough that should make it a bit easier on everyone.” Jaskier could hear himself rambling but couldn’t seem to make himself stop. He could see the annoyance in Geralt’s eyes but his stupid mouth just wouldn’t shut up. 

“Jaskier, no, fuck, that’s not what I meant at all. Why they fuck is this so hard?” Geralt started pacing, his irritation almost palpable. Jaskier frowned at him in confusion. “I want us to be more than we were before, something different. I ... you’re important to me, Jaskier. One of the most important people in my life.” 

Jaskier tried so hard not to let his heart jump out of his mouth. Geralt was being sweet and caring, but he shouldn’t read more into this than Geralt wanted. “Of course, we can be whatever you wanted, Geralt. I’ll have to go and talk to Yennefer, make sure that she can take this into account and factor it into the plans that she has for the summer. I’ll see you soon.” Jaskier grinned one last time at a bewildered looking Geralt and went sprinting through the castle. There was no way he was giving Geralt enough time to second guess his choices, he was stuck with Jaskier as a travelling companion now and there was no getting out of it. 

* * *

Geralt seemed particularly out of sorts after their conversation. Jaskier kept grinning and referring to him as his travelling buddy, something that made the witcher scowl in what Jaskier was sure was his instinctive reaction to any kind of affection. While the random flowers and the sweets kept increasing in both their grandeur and their frequency, Jaskier’s teasing response that Geralt was mistaking him for a damsel in distress for some reason had Ciri in fits of laughter and Geralt sulking around the keep for a day. It was confusing but Jaskier assumed that the witcher was just reluctant to let people see just how nice he could be. 

Eskel and Lambert seemed equally mystified by Geralt’s behaviour, asking Jaskier if he thought that Geralt had been possessed or bespelled or something and then dissolving into giggles when Geralt told them both to fuck off. They started humming (really badly and offkey but Jaskier was a good friend and wouldn’t tell them how awful they sounded) some of his more romantic ballads whenever they saw Geralt, clearly delighting in the way the man turned bright red and swore at them. Jaksier had no idea what they were all up to but was happy to see them all getting along so well. 

The others had started to include him in their plans for the upcoming season more, all of them trying to coordinate a time that they could meet up in Oxenfurt and attend some ball that Yennefer said she could get them all invited to. The logistics of trying to find a way that all of them could be in the same place without any commitments was rather terrifying, but Yennefer was determined and Jaskier was more than happy to help out. 

It would be a good opportunity for him to change up his travelling companion as well. He knew that he could be a bit much sometimes and he didn’t want to drive Geralt insane with his constant chatter the entire summer. The poor witcher would probably be glad to pass him off to one of his brothers by that point, and Jaskier resolved to himself that he would not complain when the time came. 

Travelling with Eskel and Lambert was fun and exciting, but he knew that Geralt would always be his favourite. He might even try travelling with Vesemir if the older witcher would have him, it would be rather interesting to see how different he was in his hunts than his pups. 

When he voiced these ideas to Vesemir, the man stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. Jaksier pouted and waited for him to stop. 

“So, you think that you are going to be passed around like a parcel over the summer? You really have no idea, do you pup?” 

Jaskier frowned. “Why would it be a problem?Do the others not want me to travel with them or something? Do you know something I don’t know?”   
  


Vesemir kept chuckling; it was starting to drive Jaskier mad. “If you haven’t figured it out yourself yet, I’m not ruining it. Why don’t you run this idea past Geralt? I would pay to watch that conversation.” 

Jaskier continued to look at the older witcher as he walked off, laughing to himself. Maybe everyone else was going insane what with the long winter and being cooped up inside. That sounded like a thing that could happen and a rational reason for why everyone was acting bizarre. How sad, Jaskier would have to make sure to sing nice things to try and make them feel better about their slow descent into madness. 


	79. Had it all planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer and Ciri leave the group for the spring.

Yennefer and Ciri were the first to leave as the snow started melting. Yennefer had found some references to a Professor Moreau and was eager to start sending letters off to Touisannt to find out more about this lead in her research. The two of them opened a portal to her home in Vengerberg and after lots of cuddling and Jaskier refusing to admit that his eyes were leaking as he said goodbye to them all, they were gone. 

Yennefer had made him a bracelet with a charm for each of his bonded that she had charmed to help appease his fossegrim nature. Once the two women were gone, Jaskier found himself constantly fiddling with the small lion and the kitten charms absently. It helped whenever the water sound started returning, the charms somehow exuding a sense of comfort and making him feel as if they were right beside him. Eskel and Lambert only teased him about a few times, the way he had retaliated by having all of the water in their mouth dry up and leaving them desperately drinking water for an hour to try and make the awful sensation go away had them leaving him alone. Vesemir had just laughed at his pups and told them that this was exactly what they deserved, ignoring the pouty faces they turned his way to congratulate the fossegrim on a creative method of controlling the wayward pups. 

Geralt was the one who Jaskier found the most comfort in. When he noticed the bard playing with his bracelet more, he tended to come and sit beside him and start talking about their plans for meeting up in Oxenfurt later. The reminder that their separation was only temporary always helped Jaskier to get control of his instincts a bit faster and then the bard was back to his usual annoying self. 

He particularly enjoyed winding Geralt up about all of the fancy outfits he would force the witcher into, ignoring any jabs about Geralt not wanting to look like a sad silk trader again, and how Ciri would look so beautiful and have all the younger boys and girls following after her with their hearts in their eyes. It was hilarious to watch the witcher silently panic at the idea of his little girl having any kind of romantic life and Jaskier had to remind him several times that as innocent as Ciri could look, she would gut anyone who even looked at her in a way she did not like when the poor man seemed moments away from running all the way to Vengerberg to protect his Child Surprise. 

Jaksier had lots of plans for Oxenfurt and had managed to convince Geralt that they should head there a little earlier than the others so that he could start getting their outfits made and everything prepared. He had such amazing plans and was prepared to sing himself hoarse before they reached Oxenfurt to earn enough coin for it all. It would be worth every moment to see everyone looking so beautiful and all of the nobles finally appreciating how majestic his witchers looked.He had so many plans and had started writing his ideas in the back of one of his composition books so that when he arrived in Oxenfurt he would have their outfits already planned out. 

Once the snows had cleared a little more, they all decided to set out together. Jaskier spent a few hours running around the keep to make sure that he hadn’t left anything important behind. He must have checked that his lute was secured in its case and secured in Roach’s saddlebags about five hundred times that morning, but Geralt was being ridiculously patient with him and checking for him whenever he started panicking that maybe he hadn’t packed it or that it might be exposed enough to get some water damage, despite the fact that Yennefer had charmed the case to help protect it for him. Jaskier had patted him thankfully on the cheek and called him a dear when he checked for the last time and had looked on in confusion when Eskel and Lambert absolutely lost it at that and just about fell over laughing. Geralt had huffed and glared at them but said nothing. Hopefully the spring air would help them all get over their madness. 

When they did all set off, Jaskier started singing his newest song from where he walked beside Roach. He had been working on one about the keep for a few weeks now, one that spoke of the home waiting for you when the storm sets in and the friends and family that support you in the dead of the winter. It had all four of his witchers looking rather misty eyed as they rode out and Jaskier discreetly wiped a tear or two away as well as he sang. 

They travelled together for a few days, moving further away from the keep and encountering more and more villages with monster problems as they went. It seemed like over the winter all of the monsters that the witchers had spent all their time slaying had come back with a vengeance. There was plenty of coin to be made and Jaskier was happy to help by singing of his darlings’ heroics to a grateful audience and winking suggestively at their money pouches. 

Unfortunately for Jaskier, there wasn’t enough money for four witchers and a bard to travel together for too long. The contracts that the witchers were able to take paid well enough for one or two people to live off of, but not all five of them at once. By the time they got to Ard Carraigh, it was clear that they would need to split up. Jaskier bitched and moaned about the whole thing, but Vesemir quickly told him to shut up and stop making the other pups sad. Jaskier had turned to see three very despondent witchers giving him the most heartbroken expressions and he had quickly changed tack and decided that they would make the most of the last few nights they had together. 

He had quickly organised a room for them in the local inn and made sure that all of them were situated at a table with the best ale he could find for them before he set about singing all of their favourites for them. He managed to get the entire inn singing along uproariously, even Lambert and Eskel howling along to some of them while Vesemir hummed along. Geralt was watching quietly with a small smile tilting the corner of his lips. It was a look that had Jaskier’s blood aflame in his veins and he sang louder and danced around the room with even more enthusiasm in response. 

He wished that the night could go on forever, with his witchers enjoying themselves so much and people not flinching at the sight of four witchers lurking in the corner. He went all too willingly when Geralt pulled him over, gently taking his lute from his hands and placing it on the table before he pulled Jaskier to the table. Jaskier looked around for a place to sit and, seeing that there were no seats available, perched on Geralt’s knee with a mischievous grin. He tried to ignore the way his heart beat double time at the move and the other three witchers gave him shocked looks when Geralt didn’t shove him on to the floor but instead wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back to rest more snugly against his chest. 

“Take a break, Jaskier, and drink with us. You can flounce around like a bloody bird later but right now, you need to relax with your friends,” Geralt said in a husky voice. Jaskier tried desperately not to shiver at the feeling of Geralt’s breath on his neck and glared at Lambert who started biting at his tongue suggestively at the pair of them.

“Fine, I suppose I can take a moment and enjoy your lovely company. Now, where are you delightful men planning on heading in the morning? I need to make sure that you are all heading into nice and safe areas so that I can sleep at night without worrying about you all.” Jaskier smiled at them all, trying to put a brave face on his worry. 

“Calm down, Jaskier. Yen made us those maps so you can keep an eye on us all. And she even said something about it making a hell of a racket and lighting up if any of us are ever in trouble, so there’s no need to worry,” Eskel smirked across the table at him and ignored the way that Jaskier pouted at him. 

“Let the lad worry, Eskel,” Vesemir said. “It’s his way of showing he cares. Lambert was heading off to Kovir, while Eskel was thinking of heading down towards Ebbing. I’m going to keep close around the Blue Mountains, it pays to keep someone close around the keep to make sure that nothing happens. I think Geralt was planning on taking you down through Temeria, letting it be seen that he doesn’t have Ciri with him to shake off any suspicion that we have her with us. It should help to keep Nilfgaard off of her trail.” 

Jaskier smiled at Vesemir, despite this being the fifth time that they had told him their plans, and relaxed back against Geralt. The witcher let out a small surprised huff at the action but Jaskier wasn’t going to relinquish his comfortable seat now that he had calmed his worries. He was determined to enjoy his evening and make the most of the time he had left with his friends. He took a large drink from Geralt’s mug where it sat in front of him and grinned across the table at Lambert. 


	80. The hardest goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt say goodbye to the other witchers.

That night, Jaskier had been extra cuddly in their puppy pile. He had managed to worm himself between Eskel and Lambert and had his legs resting on Vesemir’s stomach where he lay at their feet closest to the door. Geralt had initially made an annoyed huff about the sleeping arrangements, but one look at Jaskier’s  _ I-will-not-cry-about-them-leaving  _ face and he had reluctantly settled down behind Lambert with an arm thrown over the youngest witcher so that he could hold Jaskier’s hand. 

Jaskier barely slept that night, spending most of his time carding his fingers through his witchers’ hair and trying to memorise their faces. He kept catching a glimpse of amber eyes watching him over Lambert’s shoulder, but Geralt never said anything. When the two men on either side of Jaskier finally woke, yawning and flailing around with their arms in an attempt to brain Jaskier, he plastered a happy smile on his face and tried to pretend that the water noise wasn’t rushing back in. He could see Geralt keeping more of an eye on him than usual, but there was no way in hell he was admitting to anything in front of the others and having them feel obligated to stay with him. He just needed for today to be over and then he could sulk for a while before moving on. 

They had a rather quiet breakfast, despite Jaskier’s best attempts at lightening the mood, and when the witchers were standing in the stables by the inn and saddling their horses, he couldn’t help himself from throwing his arms around Eskel and letting out a choked little sob. Eskel gingerly wrapped his arms around the bard and patted his back while they listened to Lambert asking Geralt in hushed tones if they had broken the bard and how they could fix him. 

When Jaskier managed to regain control of himself, he stepped back and offered Eskel a watery smile and he rubbed at his eyes with a sleeve. “Sorry, don’t know what came over me there,” he said, trying to keep his voice upbeat and hating the way it cracked. 

“It’s fine, little songbird,” Vesemir said, swooping him up into a bear hug. “Geralt will take good care of you and we will see you in a few months in Oxenfurt. No need for any tears.” 

Jaskier’s sniffs turned into laughter as the witchers then proceeded to pass him around for hugs without letting his feet touch the ground. He would deny the high pitched squeak that he let out when Lambert proceeded to throw him to Eskel till his dying day, but he was so glad to see his witchers happy. It made it a bit easier to know that they would take this in stride and be alright without him there to mother them. 

Eskel finally passed Jaskier back over to Geralt, who held him rather than putting him down onto the floor. Jaskier tried not to read too much into it, but it was rather soothing to feel like not everyone was abandoning him as they all mounted their horses. With a few last waves and jokes about Geralt making sure that their bard didn’t get into any shit or they would be hell to pay, the two of them were standing quietly and watching the three men ride away. Vesemir was staring straight ahead, the perfect image of a witcher riding out onto the Path, while Eskel and Lambert kept turning around to wave back to them (and for Lambert to make increasingly rude hand gestures at them and crack up laughing.) 

Jaskier and Geralt stood quietly for a moment watching their retreating figures before Jaskier sighed and leaned even further back against Geralt. “Where to now, master witcher?” 

“Hm, well first of all, you need to go and pack up all of your shit. Honestly, Jaskier, how the hell do you manage to get your stuff everywhere within a few hours? And we have time for you to have a nap before we head out, the room is still ours for a while longer and don’t think that I didn’t see you stay up all night.” Geralt turned them back to the inn and pushed him gently back towards the door. 

Jaskier spun around and glared at him playfully. “If you saw me stay up all night then that means that you didn’t sleep either. Come on, if I have to have a nap you can join me.” 

“I’m a witcher, Jaskier. I don’t need as much sleep as you do,” Geralt protested even as he followed dutifully behind him. 

Jaskier scoffed. “Sure thing, buddy, you keep telling yourself that. Just because you can go for days just doing that creepy statue thing you call meditating doesn’t mean you don’t need a good nap. Plus, there is no way in this world I am going to get to sleep without at least one of my witchers there to cuddle, so there.” He turned to see Geralt’s eyes drop quickly to the floor and his face flushed. Jaskier brushed off his weird behaviour and when they got to the room draped his doublet over their bags and flopped on the bed, turning to make grabby hands at Geralt where he lurked in the doorway. Geralt sighed and kicked off his shoes, pulling Jaskier’s from his feet for him before joining him on the bed. 

Jaskier squirmed till they were lying face to face and he could boop his nose against Geralt’s and grin when the witcher went cross eyed watching him. “So, Temeria next?” 

“Mmm, it should be the best way to make sure that they don’t suspect us of hiding Ciri somewhere if we are seen travelling around together like usual. Plus, Temeria manages to have a ridiculous amount of monsters and enough nobles with no idea what to do about it that we can both make a fair amount of coin. We shouldn’t have to sleep rough too often and if we play our cards right you can have plenty of hot baths.” 

Jaskier hummed. “I don’t mind if we can’t always stay in nice places, Geralt. I know how expensive it can all get and I know what I signed up for. But in Temeria I should at least be able to get us some free accommodation in some places in return for a performance. Enough people there should recognise my name that we can get by pretty well on that. Then you can save your money to spoil yourself in Oxenfurt. I’m sure you would love some new shiny stabby things.” 

Geralt frowned at him. “It’s fine, Jaskier. I can spend some money on us, I don’t need anything when we get to Oxenfurt.” 

Jaskier smooshed Geralt’s face between his hands, chuckling when Geralt pretended to take a bite out of his hand and growled at him. “That’s not the point. It’s not about what you need, it’s about wanting to treat yourself sometimes. Honestly, I am going to teach you all to appreciate the finer things in life from time to time. It’s no use arguing with me about this, I have quite made up my mind. The more cheap accommodation we can get, the more we can save to treat Ciri when we all get to Oxenfurt. So let me do as much as I can to make it easier on all of us. I’m not being a burden on the Path, I am quite determined to carry my own weight.” 

“You’re not a burden at all, Jaskier,” Geralt said in a quiet voice. “Temeria always pays well, and having you around tends to make people a bit freer with the coin anyway. I should be able to make enough to set some aside for Oxenfurt as well as make sure that the Path this season is a bit more comfortable than we have had before. I don't want you feeling as if you have to pay our way. Somehow you make people pay more for their contracts anyway and stop the innkeepers from charging me far more than they usually do, so you are already making it easier.”

Jaskier smiled softly at that. “Fine, we can take it in turns. But if you come back from a contract looking all tired and grumpy, I reserve the right to get us a room and pamper you for a bit. You witchers all work too hard and then never take the time to look after yourself afterwards, it’s ridiculous.” 

Geralt’s mouth did that twisty thing that made Jaskier’s heart melt. “Fair deal. We can look after each other on the Path this season. Now go to sleep, you look exhausted.” 

“Fine, fine, grumpy witcher. I can take a hint.” Jaskier snuggled further down into the sheets and curled up against Geralt. He tried to pretend it was just like sleeping in the puppy piles like they always did when they were all together, but the idea of just him and Geralt sharing a bed had his stupid heart getting it’s hopes up. As long as that was the only part of his body that starting going up, it was far too warm and comfortable cuddled up against Geralt and he was hoping that the rest of his body got the memo that this was just two friends sharing a bed because it was cheaper and much warmer in the early days of spring. 

There was no reason for him to start reading things into this, he just needed to make sure that he kept that front and center in his mind. As much as he loved Geralt and was sure that he would never love someone else in the same way that he loved this stupidly attractive and protective lunk of a man, he could never expect Geralt to return those feelings. He would be happy with whatever Geralt was comfortable giving, and sweet Melitele he would find a way to keep his heart intact. 


	81. They’re just battle cries dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt goes on a hunt and Jaskier wants to watch. 
> 
> (There is a description of Geralt hunting, so be warned.)

It didn’t take them too long to get to Temeria. There were plenty of odd contracts that Geralt took on the way and spring was always a rather profitable time for a bard, what with people feeling a lot more optimistic as the temperature increased and sudden desire to shake off the gloom of winter. They managed to get a fair amount of money squirrelled away, and Jaskier managed to keep most of it in Geralt’s pockets, something that he was rather pleased about. He was rather proud about it, not wanting Geralt to feel as if he was a burden even if the witcher kept up the random stream of gifts that he had started up during the winter. The rosin was received particularly well, anything that would keep his darling lute in good condition was always a source of joy to him. 

As they passed through Redania on their way down to Temeria, Geralt received a rather interesting contract. A group of villagers were complaining of a winged beast that kept carrying off their livestock and had even attacked a small child, who had thankfully squirmed enough to be dropped. When they had tried to scare it off at one point, it had spat something at them that had burnt the skin of those trying to protect their livelihoods. Geralt seemed to take the contract as business as usual, but Jaskier was excited. 

“This sounds perfect for a new ballad, something dramatic and heroic to get your image back out there. Noble witcher kills the child snatching beast who swoops over the village with wings of death! I’m coming with, this is the best day ever.” The villager offering the contract looked rather put out at Jaskier’s enthusiasm, but he wasn’t arguing with Geralt’s muttered, “Fine, tell me all you know,” rattling off a rather vague list of facts and guesses that had Geralt sighing and muttering “wyvern, I’m charging double if it’s a fucking royal.” The villager nodded frantically, looking rather terrified at the idea of a royal wyvern using their village as a hunting ground. 

Geralt grunted and turned away. “We better get going then. Should be pretty easy to attract, I’ll find a nice clear field and then set some bait. Jaskier, you head into town and I’ll meet up with you after.” 

“Oh, no no no no no. Not today, mister. I am coming with and watching. How am I meant to write songs of your heroics if I can’t see them. We all know that I can look after myself, especially after the discoveries of last year. Who knows, I might even be able to help you, did you think of that, oh fearsome warrior?” The villager was looking at him like he was insane now, muttering something about finding him at the inn when the beast was dead and scrambling away. Jaskier frowned when Geralt turned a stern look on him. 

It’s not safe, Jaskier. If you were there, I would spend more time worrying that you would get hurt and not enough focusing on the bloody wyvern.” 

“Well, then. I shall find a suitable hiding place where I can still get a good view and then you can set up your little bait thingy. I am not missing out on this, Geralt, not this time, so deal with it.” 

The witcher stared at him for a long minute, clearly warring with himself about this. Jaskier did his best to look strong and capable and not at all like he would be in any way a distraction. It seemed to work, the witcher letting out a long sigh and nodding. “If you get in the way, it won’t be the wyvern you need to look out for, I’ll kill you myself.”

Jaskier beamed at him and started dancing in circles around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You won’t regret this, Geralt, I will write you the most amazing ballad from this, you just wait and see!” Geralt grunted in reply and seemed content to watch the bard prance around him happily while he wandered around the village, looking for a suitable place to lure the wyvern that was far enough from the village that no one would be in danger. Jaskier continued to make a fool of himself, trying out some rhymes and lyrics to describe a wyvern as he went. 

Once Geralt was happy enough with the spot he had chosen, he started looking for a place to hide the over excited bard. Jaskier didn't make it particularly easy, too busy wandering around arguing with himself over the best way to describe the way a witcher’s sword gleams in the sunlight and asking Geralt random questions about a wyvern for inspiration. Eventually, the witcher growled and grabbed Jaskier by the arm, pulling him into a small bush where he would be perfectly hidden as long as he stayed quiet and didn’t move about. 

Once Geralt had repeated to him several times that he needed to stay there and not make a sound (something that Jaskier replied “Oh, really, you don’t say?” to and earnt another glare for his troubles, the witcher moved away to the center of the field and started smearing some oil over the ground. It was meant to lure the beast in, mimicking the pheromones a potential mate would exude to entice it. 

Jaskier was doing his best not to wriggle with impatience when the witcher settled in to meditate, clearly prepared to wait until the beast appeared. Thankfully, it was only a few minutes, long enough for Jaskier to sing a few of his songs to himself in his head, before a dark shape appeared in the sky with a spine chilling cry. It looked just as Jaksier had hoped it would, like something out of a tale told around a campfire at night, but he could barely focus on composing lyrics worthy of such a beast when concern for the witcher crept into his heart. 

He watched with concern when the beast approached, spitting venom down towards the witcher as it screamed in fury at being deceived. Geralt calmly looked up at the sky before downing a potion in one quick motion and rising to his feet. Jaskier winced, using all of his strength not to bolt out there in some desperate attempt to protect Geralt, but the witcher rolled swiftly out of the way, already aiming and firing a crossbolt at the wyvern. It screamed again as the bolt pierced it’s side, dropping to the ground and snarling at the witcher as it swiped at him with it’s pointed tail. 

Geralt managed to dodge the attack, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he danced around the wyvern. Jaskier could see the savage snarl on his witcher’s face as he moved around the beast, doing his best to work his way within striking range without coming into contact with either the stinger in the tail or the rather vicious teeth that kept snapping at him and spitting venom. The intricate dance that the two performed seemed to go on for an age before Geralt made one quick feint and managed to strike the wyvern a deep blow, severing the tail from its body. 

With a savage cry, Geralt increased the speed and fervour of his attacks. The wyvern was distracted by its own pain, wailing in agony while Geralt tried his hardest to end it. Its movements were no longer as deliberate, its limbs lashing out angrily to try and get rid of the pain. Geralt seized the opportunity, landing a few more well placed blows before his sword sank deep into the wyvern's throat. With one final cry, the beast writhed before sinking limply to the floor. Geralt stood for a moment, poised to leap out of the way if the wyvern moved again, before pulling his sword from its neck. With a grimace, he set about the bloody business of decapitating it to use the head as proof for the villagers. 

Jaskier waited patiently in the bush, almost vibrating with concern for the witcher. When Geralt finally turned to him and beckoned him over with one blood drenched hand, Jaskier scrambled out of his hiding place and launched himself at the man, not caring about the blood that ended up all over his clothing. 

“Are you alright? Did it get you at all? Are you hurt?” 

Geralt chuckled, pushing Jaskier’s hands away when the bard tried to check him over for any damage. “I’m fine, Jaskier, not a scratch on me. I was lucky, just a normal wyvern, and half starved at that. It must have been driven to seek food, you don’t usually find them so close to people without reason.” 

Jaskier sighed in relief, sagging against him. “Thank all the gods. That thing was terrifying. If that was only a starving one, I would hate to see one of those royal thingies that you were on about. Well, shall we go and collect your reward, oh valiant slayer of beats?” 

Geralt groaned goodnaturedly, shoving the bard gently away from him. “Come on you, before I make you carry this head the whole way back.” 

Jaskier took one look at it, with the blood and other icky bits hanging off of it, and retched. “Nope, I am completely fine not having to touch that thing. Let’s go give it to that man from the village, I bet he passes out when you give it to him.” With vicious glee, Jaskier led the way back towards the village, ignoring Geralt’s muttering about how the wyvern was lucky that it could no longer hear the bard’s attempts at composing a new song about its demise. 


	82. Got a headache that just won’t shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier isn't feeling the best.

While Jaskier refused to accompany Geralt on any more major hunts (he didn’t think his poor heart could take any more of that kind of worry) Geralt was equally unenthused about how hard Jaskier was working. They had gotten into the habit of Jaskier staying at the local inn or in a town square, somewhere with lots of people and the opportunity to make a bit of cash, but Geralt always seemed a bit sour when Jaskier spent several hours performing. Jaskier tried to make sure that he was available to work whenever Geralt was busy fulfilling a contract, but the witcher still grumped and growled like a bear with a sore paw when he came back to find Jaskier exhausted from his performances. 

Jaskier didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t exactly hide it from Geralt and he refused to stop working. He had sworn to himself that he would not be a burden this season, that he would work hard to make sure that he was helping out and able to treat them all once they arrived at Oxenfurt, but how was he meant to do that when Geralt seemed so angered by his only method of providing a decent income for himself. 

It all came to a head when Geralt returned from a contract on a pair of wraiths that were haunting the cemetery of a small village. He had been gone for several days, enough time to stake out the sight, get a good look at the habits of the wraiths, and then fight them the following night. When he returned, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, he scowled when he saw the bard almost collapsed at a table and sipping gingerly on some honey tea that the inn keep had been kind enough to give him. 

“Geralt!” he croaked in welcome. “The hunt went well, I presume?” 

“Jaskier, what the fuck have you done?” Geralt growled, pulling the cup to him to take a deep sniff before shoving it back to him with a snarl. “Have you hurt your throat, I told you that you didn’t need to keep working so hard.” 

“It’s fine, mister witcher, you’re all worried for nothing. I am perfectly fine to perform for these lovely people, I just seem to have a small bit of a cold or something.” Jaskier tried to look at him with pleading eyes, but instead sneezed in his face. He swore, apologising profoundly when Geralt continued to regard him with an angry glare. 

With a sigh, Geralt stood and pulled the bard along with him. He half carried, half led Jaaskier towards the rooms that they had rented. “Come on, Jaskier, let’s get you to bed. You are in no fit state to be performing, how the hell did you even pick up one of these stupid human illnesses?” 

Jaskier sputtered indignantly as he stumbled along behind him. “I’m fine, Geralt, it’s just a little cold. I’ve had them before and will again, it’s no big deal.” 

Geralt ignored him, slamming the door to their room open and dumping Jaskier onto the bed. He immediately started pulling Jaskier’s boots off and bundling him up in as many blankets as he could find. “Stop whining and let me take care of you. You’re sick and tired from all of the performing you have been doing. You need to let someone else take care of you for a bit and recover.” 

Geralt bustled around the room, ignoring Jaskier’s complaints and instance that he was perfectly fine as he grumbled to himself about bloody bards and Yennefer never being around when he needed her. He barked a grumpy “stay in bed, I’ll be back in a minute” before storming back downstairs. 

Jaskier sighed to himself and cuddled up in the blankets. He had been feeling rather tired and achy with his cold, more and more as the day progressed, but he hadn’t wanted to stop performing until his voice had started breaking (only noticeable to his ears but still, he had standards) and he had forced himself to stop for a break. The warmth of the blankets was rather pleasant, making him feel cared for and safe, so he allowed his eyes to drift shut for just a moment.

He startled awake moments later when the door slammed open to reveal Geralt with a steaming pot of tea. The scent of lemon and honey wafted through the air and Jaskier smiled weakly. “So, all I have to do is get sick for you to treat me like this? I might have to catch a cold more often.” Geralt only snapped at him in response, busying himself with the tea and then adding a hefty drop of some unnamed but strong smelling alcohol to the cup before shoving it roughly towards Jaskier.

“Drink this, it should help,” he said in a low voice. 

“Fine, I’ll drink your funny tea, although why you want to get me drunk when I’m sick I don't know.” Jaskier pouted at him and took a long sip of the tea, shivering in pleasure when it made the scratchy feeling in his throat ease. 

Geralt hummed tunelessly, turning away from Jaskier for a moment as if embarrassed. “It’s something that Vesemir used to use with us when our throats would hurt from screaming with the trials. It always made the pain a little easier to bear, I thought that it might do the same for you.” 

Jaskier watched Geralt pretend to busy himself moving about the room and tidying their things away. “I asked for a bath to be brought up and filled, so you can try warming up in that for a bit before I clean this muck off of myself. That should help to make you feel a bit better.” 

Jaskier looked at his witcher in wonder. “I have a small cold, Geralt, not the bloody plague. I promise you, a good night’s sleep and a couple of days without anything too strenuous and I should be fine. You don’t need to go to all of this bother.” 

“What if I want to?” Geralt asked in a quiet voice. “What if I want to look after you and make sure that you feel better?” The witcher looked almost hurt by Jaskier’s lack of appreciation for his concern. “What if I remember how awful it used to be, to be sick as a child, and I want to help you when you feel like that? You always help me when I am tired and injured after a hunt, why can I not help you when you are not feeling at your best?” 

Jaskier was lost for words at that. He gawped at Geralt for a moment, not knowing how to respond, until there was a knock at the door and they were interrupted with the arrival of the bath and several buckets of steaming hot water. Once Geralt had arranged the bath to his satisfaction, he dug Jaskier out from his small mountain of blankets and was about to undress him from the bath himself when Jaskier batted his hands away. He motioned for Geralt to turn around and quickly undressed himself when the witcher sighed and complied. Once he was undressed, he quickly hopped in the tub, groaning as the heat got to work on his tired muscles. 

“Do you have some of that nice smelling stuff that you rub in my hair for me? I can do that for you if you wanted?” 

Jaskier turned with a grin. “But of course. If you look in my bag, it should be in the clear vial, it smells of cinnamon and cloves.” He watched Geralt rummage around in his bag until he emerged victorious with the vial, his lips twisting into the grin that melted Jaskier as much as the water did as he approached him. 

He motioned for Jaskier to dunk his head under the water and then poured a little of the oil into his hands, rubbing it gently into Jaskier’s hair. His fingers were round and callused against Jaskier’s head, but he was clearly trying to be as gentle as he could with the bard. Jaskier sighed and relaxed back against him, feeling like he was about to start purring or something with how relaxed he felt. The hands disappeared from his hair for a moment and he blinked his eyes open lazily to find Geralt holding the mug of tea for him to take. Jaskier reached for it with greedy hands, taking another sip and humming in contentment when Geralt’s hands found their way back into his hair. 

“I could get used to being pampered like this,” he sighed. “You might want to be careful, Geralt, or I’ll start expecting this kind of treatment all the time.” 

Geralt chuckled behind him, pulling lightly at his hair in reprimand. “Don’t start getting ideas, Jaskier. I’m happy to treat you when you aren’t feeling well, but don’t start acting like some lord in his bloody castle.” 

“I’ll have you know that I am nobility, master witcher, minor yes, but still nobility. Watch how you speak to me, you rude and rough peasant!” Jaskier turned to grin mischievously at him enjoying the chance to tease his witcher. Geralt’s eyes seemed to slip down his torso for a moment, but Jaskier dismissed the way his eyes seemed to brighten as his imagination. There was no way that Geralt was appreciating the view of his chest. 

“I heard all about your family, Jaskier. From the sounds of it, they got off bloody lightly with what Lambert and Yennefer did to them. I would have used them as fucking ghoul bait for what they did to you.” Geralt’s chest rumbled with his growl and Jaskier sighed, placing one damp hand on his cheek gently. 

“Thank you, Geralt, for wanting to make it better. But that’s part of my life that I am putting behind me. I would have been awful as a noble anyway, that life was far too boring and confining. Things have turned out for the best, this way I have the chance to travel with you and all the others.” He patted Geralt on the cheek once more before turning and pulling the witcher’s hands back to his hair with his free hand, taking another sip of his tea with the other. “Now, I was promised some hair washing. Let’s get this done and then I can help you to get all of the mud out of yours before we go to bed. I’m rather tired, so I hope you are prepared for lots of snoring.” 

Geralt’s hands started working through his hair again and Jaskier sank back against the edge of the tub. “You just relax. I can take care of myself once you are done and all tucked into bed. You look exhausted, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier hummed back at him, trying to muster up the energy to reply but being lulled to sleep with the way that Geralt’s fingers massaged his head and the smell of cinnamon drifting in the air around them. Geralt chuckled at his lack of words, starting to hum himself, one of Jaskier’s songs if he was not mistaken. Jaskier allowed himself to drift off to sleep with Geralt’s surprisingly strong baritone humming soothingly, safe and secure in the knowledge that his witcher was looking after him. 


	83. You’ll burn up soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is still unwell and Geralt gets to look after him.

Jaskier woke up thinking that he was feeling a bit better, but also very aware of the way that Geralt was wrapped around him protectively. It was a lovely gesture, but Jaskier felt like he was in a sauna. He went to shove Geralt off of him a bit so that he could get some air but found that he could barely lift his arms from the bed. He whined in confusion and then grinned dopily at the way Geralt’s eyes instantly snapped open and scanned the room to try and find the threat. 

“Ger’lt, I feel weeeirrrdd,” he complained. Geralt moved from where Jaskier was cuddled into him and he tried his hardest not to vomit when the room swam in front of him at the sudden movement. Geralt swore under his breath and grabbed a bucket from beside the bed in time for Jaskier to heave up any food that he had eaten recently. He moaned and subsided against the bed weakly when he finally stopped. 

“Of course you decide to get sick now, how the hell do you catch a human illness, Jaskier? I thought you would be immune to these with your fossegrim side, but apparently not.” Geralt sighed and tried to make Jaskier more comfortable on the bed. The bard tried his best to help the witcher rearrange him on the bed, but had little control of his body right now. 

“I’m half human too, you big dumb,” Jaskier slurred. He frowned at Geralt and then burst into a big grin when Geralt huffed in annoyance at him and started trying to fluff the pillow for him. “Look at you being all sweet and trying to help sick little me. This is going to be the best time I have ever been sick!” Jaskier’s voice rose with his excitement and he winced when his own voice hurt his head. “Fuck, being sick sucks.” 

Geralt snickered at him, stepping away from the bed and surveying the bard. “Are you going to be alright here if I go and get some soup and some more tea? You need to try and eat something, even if it is just liquid.” 

Jaskier nodded and smiled softly at him. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for being a hero, Geralt.” 

The witcher went pink in the face and left the room abruptly, almost walking into the doorframe as he tried to keep his gaze on Jaskier. Jaskier chuckled weakly, especially at the muttered cursing he could hear retreating down the hallway. He lay there, waiting for Geralt to come back and appreciating the way that the room seemed to be dancing in front of his eyes. He hadn’t been this sick in a long time, thank all the gods that it had happened when he had someone with him and not when he had been travelling alone. It would have been awful to have to worry about if he had paid enough for the room for a few days and how he would get food when he seriously doubted if he would be able to get out of the bed right now. 

And it was also a great opportunity to see a rather sweet side of Geralt. It wasn’t like he had been expecting the witcher to abandon him at the first sign of him being sick, but it was still a nice boost to his ego to see Geralt not flinching away from what was probably not a very attractive sight right now. He knew that he tended to go a rather ghastly pale shade when he was sick and from the way he felt, he was probably dripping with sweat and looking rather pathetic. 

Geralt came faster than Jaskier had expected, but he had a strange feeling that it may have been due to the way that he seemed to be swimming in and out of consciousness if the strange way that Geralt seemed to be teleporting around the room and doing something different each time he looked at him was any indication. He did try to focus for a moment when it seemed like Geralt was asking him something, but it made his head feel as if it was being split open like Geralt did to drowners so he quickly gave that up. Instead, he enjoyed the floaty feeling and the way that his heart sang in his chest whenever he saw Geralt staying close to his side. 

At one point, he thought he heard Geralt telling him a story, something about a knight or something. The man seemed to have a thing for knight stories, he would have to remember to ask him about it when he was better. Then he thought he heard Geralt singing one of his songs to him, but he must have imagined that because the next thing he saw was Geralt talking to a woman at the door. He tried to say something, to ask who she was or why she was there, but Geralt turned and smiled at him, telling him to relax and focus on getting better and then he must have fallen asleep again. 

When he blinked his way back to consciousness, finally feeling like he could maybe control his limbs enough to at least get out of what he was sure was a delightfully sweaty bed, he looked around the room for Geralt. He couldn’t see him for a moment until he heard Geralt hum in confusion and felt what he had thought was a pillow move at the sound. 

“Are you actually awake this time, Jaskier, or are you going to start babbling about something ridiculous again?” Geralt said in a low voice. 

Jaskier tilted his head back and smiled up at his witcher. “I’m awake, and feeling like I could get out of this bloody bed. How long was I out for?”

“A few days. You were lucid enough that I could get you out of the bed and washed when you were particularly disgusting, but you seem much better now. Your fever seemed to break a few hours ago, I left you resting in the hopes that it would help you recover faster.” As he spoke, Geralt moved towards the door. “Just wait a moment longer and I’ll get them to bring some more hot water up. We can get you nice and clean, then figure out how much longer we should need to stay here before you are well enough to move on.”

Jaskier frowned at the witcher. He was being unbelievably sweet to him, but Jaskier didn’t want Geralt to feel like he was a burden, he didn’t want to be the one holding him back from his time on the Path. 

“Geralt, we can leave today if you need. I shudder to think how much money we owe this place already, what with all the extra nights here and it sounds like a few baths as well. I can pay you back, I promise, but we can get moving as soon as you want to.” 

Geralt sighed and turned to look at Jaskier, leaning on the doorframe that he had been about to walk out of. “Jaskier, stop thinking that you are a burden or some other rubbish. You were sick and needed to be cared for. I ... I care for you and I won’t make you travel before you are well enough. Stop being ridiculous and wait patiently for your bath, you ridiculous bard.” With that, Geralt stormed out of the room. 

He was back quickly, followed by some young girls with steaming buckets of water who seemed far more relaxed about following around a witcher than most of the people Jaskier saw interact with Geralt. Clearly they had been dealing with him the entire time that Jaskier had been unwell and had uncovered the truth that Jaskier had long known, that Geralt was really a big softie under his gruff exterior. When they had left after filling the bath and Geralt had turned to him expectantly, Jaskier arched an eyebrow at his witcher. 

“What have you been doing to win over the locals in this way? They seem rather friendly, I thought you preferred to grump and growl at everyone or am I just special?” 

Geralt blushed again, busying himself with undressing Jaskier for the bath, something that Jaskier was annoyingly still too weak to do himself. “Very funny, bard. I don’t know why they aren’t afraid of me like they normally are. After the second day they started going on about how someone who took such good care of a friend couldn’t be too scary and, well, apparently all it takes to lose your hard won reputation in a night is to be somewhat decent to the people you care about.” 

Jaskier allowed Geralt to help him into the bath, knowing that he was wearing a matching blush to the witcher. “You must have been incredibly sweet to me while I was ill then, to change their minds so fast. How lucky for me! I’m sure Lambert would have had no idea what to do with a sick human and poor Eskel would have spent all of his time worrying. I managed to get sick with the one witcher who would be able to take proper care of me and even win over the locals to his cause.” 

The witcher hummed in annoyance, dunking the bard under the water and smirking at him when he came up sputtering. “Fine, fine, I won’t go on about it anymore. Thank you though, Geralt. You really are the best friend a bard could ask for.” 

Geralt sighed deeply, resting his hands in Jaskier’s hair gently. “Let’s get you clean and back into bed. I asked the girls to bring up some fresh sheets. After another night’s rest, you should be back to your annoying self.” 


	84. We'll wear our eyeliner if we want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier finds somewhere to make a bit of coin.

Thankfully for all involved, Jaskier was back to his normal self by the next morning. If he had been sick for much longer than he was sure that there would have been some kind of altercation, there was only so long he could take Geralt fulfilling all of his hopes and dreams and making his stupid heart beat faster in his chest while knowing that there was no real choice before he would scream or do something foolish. At least now that he was feeling better, he had the opportunity to do things for himself, to have a little space in which to breathe. As nice as it had been to be so well taken care of, he had been certain that his cheeks would be stained bright red permanently from all the blushing he had been doing as Geralt got him into and out of baths and was continuously hovering over him and checking that he was perfectly comfortable. 

Now that he was better, they could move on and get back to normal levels of interaction, something that didn’t make Jaskier’s chest ache in that awfully sweet way as he thought of how easy it would be to pretend that Geralt really did care for him like he wished. They could get back to their usual camaraderie, the banter and teasing between them and the occasional telling off of the bard for acting like an overexcited puppy. That was a much safer way for Jaskier to keep his heart undamaged. 

The next town they came to was slightly larger than where they had stayed, offering them a chance to settle down for a week at least while also having a steady income of coin. Once they had found an inn that was willing to let Geralt rent a room (honestly, some people were still rude enough to turn his big heroic lug of a witcher away out of some misplaced fear) they were able to find a steady flow of people with monster problems, lots of strange noises in the night that needed investigating and hauntings and small trickster sprites wreaking havoc. It kept Geralt nice and busy, so Jaskier set about finding a way to make his own coin. There was no way he was just going to sit around and do nothing all day while Geralt was off making the money, he would be no kept pet. 

While Geralt was out investigating what seemed like a case of drowners getting into the sewage system, Jaskier went wandering the streets. He had been performing at the inn they were staying at in the evenings for some coin, but it didn’t seem to be busy enough for him to make some decent coin. He needed to find somewhere that had a bigger crowd, somewhere where people felt a bit more free with their coin. In short, he needed to find the local brothel. 

It didn’t take him long to find, even though it had barely gone midday there was still a loud hum coming from the building that sounded rather promising to Jaskier’s ear. He barrelled on inside, keeping his entertainer’s mask firmly fixed onto his face, and looked around the room in approval. 

There were plenty of people about and the women and men working seemed happy with their work, something that made Jaskier better about the place. He saw a woman shake her head at a man who had been getting a bit handsy and was delighted to see who he presumed to be the Madam of the establishment appear out of thin air to back her up when the man seemed to be on the verge of protesting. He was quickly escorted out of the building and Jaskier turned to beam at the Madam. 

“My dear woman, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I am the bard, Jaskier,” With a dramatic flourish, Jaskier presented her with his hand. The woman chuckled and took his hand, allowing him to kiss it dramatically. 

“And how might we service you, good sir? There are several of my girls who have been making eyes at you since you arrived, some of my boys as well if you are so inclined.” 

Jaskier smiled ruefully at her. “While I am sure you have many fine women and men here, I am afraid that I am unable to accept. I have someone who I... someone who prevents me from enjoying myself elsewhere. I was wondering if perhaps my services might be of use here, I have played in brothels before and I must say, some good music is often useful in setting the right mood.”

The madam surveyed him for a moment, running an evaluating eye over the bard before nodding curtly, a small smile gracing her face. “I have heard of your work, Jaskier, and I can’t say that I am surprised that your heart is taken. We have all heard the songs, you know.” She winked knowingly at him and Jaskier did his best to ignore the blood rising to his face. “We would love to have you perform for the night. I can offer you twenty coins for your work tonight, plus any tips that you manage to make. If you do well tonight, we can talk again tomorrow night. It should make my darlings happier anyway, they were so excited the last time we hired a bard, even though he sang like shit.” 

Jaskier grinned, bowing extravagantly to the woman before pulling his lute to his chest and strumming a few chords to warm up. “Any preferences for the first song?” 

“That one about the fishmonger, it always seems to get the blood pumping. Should get some of these idiots who just sit around looking a bit more excited and willing to share the coin a bit.” 

Jaskier strummed the opening lines and smirked when he could see people brighten up in expectation. As soon as he started, a few of the younger people working started singing along, pulling various customers up to dance with them. It made Jaskier’s heart sing, to see people so happy to sing and dance and be alive. There was no place like it, nowhere that people were as free with their emotions and their desires. It was enough to make Jaskier giddy with all the emotions flowing around the room, almost bearing him away on a tide of rising excitement. Maybe it was another aspect of his fossegrim nature making itself known, but he felt like the emotions of the crowd were giving him a bigger high than usual.

He allowed himself to be pulled to the side by a few of the younger people working the brother, armed with makeup they decided to see what they could do to him. He agreed easily, he had worn make up a few times before for different performances and had nothing against a little judicious cosmetic enhancement to see what it could do. He ended up with bright rouge on his lips and eyeliner framing his eyes, along with some sparkly blue eyeshadow that they said brought out the colour of his eyes. 

He didn’t get a chance to look in a mirror at any point, but he was reassured by many people in the brothel that he looked enchanting, “a little fairie about to cast a spell over us all with his voice” one man several drinks in said. He smiled, dancing wildly around the place as he sang, enjoying the way that people responded to his music, the way that they all seemed so free with their emotions and their appreciation of him. 

The patrons were good about respecting his space, happy to dance with him and flirt with him before moving on to the workers around him to fulfill any other desires. He didn’t mind the way they smiled at him, playing with his hair and telling him how beautiful he was. It was a good ego boost, to feel so wanted, even when he knew that nothing would come of it and wanted to keep it that way. He had resigned himself to his one sided love, yes, but it was still good to feel like other people wanted him. 

He was human (kind of) after all, it was only natural. Everyone wanted to feel needed and appreciated some times, and as much as Geralt had been being weirdly nice and caring over the last few weeks, it was good to feel like he was at least desirable to someone. Geralt was a great friend, nothing more, so there was surely no harm in some mindless flirting. Jaskier knew that he was someone who thrived on attention and having so many people around and willing to play along with his harmless flirtation was thrilling to him. He would have to see if they would like him to come back and perform here again if Geralt was going to be staying in the area for a while, it would bring in some good coin as well as making him feel a bit better about himself. 

Jaskier was in the middle of one of his slower songs, almost crooning to a young man from his perch in his lap while people crowded around him and listened attentively, when there was a slam at the door that had people cowering away. A hulking form strode into the room, looming over Jaskier and dripping with what smelt like the innards of several different kinds of monsters. 

“Jaskier, the fuck are you doing?” Geralt thundered down at the bard. Oh fuck. 


	85. If you asked me I would lose it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier confronts Geralt.

“Geralt,” Jaksier stuttered, his voice going rather higher in pitch than he would have appreciated. “How did you find me? I hadn’t left a note or anything, I hadn’t thought that you would be back for a few more hours.” He tried to look as innocent as possible, even as the scowl on the witcher’s face seemed to get deeper and deeper. It looked like he was in deep shit and he had no idea why. Fuck, this was really going to put a damper on the evening. He could see people backing away from him, the man whose lap he was seated in gently pushing him onto the bench and retreating from Geralt’s angry glare. Fuck. 

“How about you two boys take this to one of the rooms to discuss?” the madam offered, appearing at Jaskier’s shoulder and looking around to see the sudden tension in the room. “Lindsay, take them up to one of the rooms with a bath in it, the witcher clearly needs to clean himself up before he makes a mess of my establishment. “Jaskier, I’ll take a few coins from what I would pay you tonight and you can use the room till morning. You’ve done well, lad, I wouldn’t be opposed to you coming back another evening to perform for us again.” 

Jaskier beamed at her, standing and tugging Geralt along after the young girl who had done such a good job with his eyeliner. Thank the lord for amazing women, getting Geralt away from all the poor unsuspecting bystanders was probably the best course of action right now. If he started yelling and screaming like he looked like he was on the verge of, Jaskier would rather it not be with an audience who would then go off and tell other people about how terrifying witchers were. 

Lindsay kept looking warily back at Jaskier as if she were scared for him while she lead them upstairs to one of the rooms. He shot her a cheeky grin, trying not to let the way his heart was fluttering in his chest like a caged bird show in his face in his attempt to reassure her. Geralt would never physically hurt him after all, and that was what she would most likely be concerned about. She smiled weakly back at him, looking down the hall for an unoccupied room like it was her salvation. 

Once they were ushered into the room, a rather plush and well decorated room with a copper bath big enough for two already filled and waiting in front of the fireplace to keep the water warm, and Lindsay had scampered off down the hallway, Jaskier turned to look at Geralt. The man was still scowling at him, his eyes boring into Jaskier intently. 

“The fuck are you doing here, Jaskier?” the witcher repeated, his voice going deep and gravelly as it always did when he was trying to repress his emotions. He had his typical scary witcher face on, as if he was retreating back behind his mask for some reason. 

“Oh, really? This is how we are doing this? No  _ Hi, Jaskier, it’s good to see you, Jaskier, how was your day _ ? Just straight to the interrogation, huh?” Jaskier fired back. He was not some dog to sit and stay when he was told, not that the witcher had ever told him to stay but still. He was a grown adult and was allowed to go out if he wanted to. “You scared everyone back there with your big scary witcher routine, so thanks for that. I will be lucky if they want me back here, no matter what Eirena said.” He scowled right back at the witcher. He just found a place where he could make some good money and with lovely people to talk to as well, and of course Geralt had to try and mess it up for him. 

“I came back to the room and you were gone. I thought that someone had tried to kill you for sleeping with the wrong person again, so I used the map to find you. Looks like I shouldn’t have bothered, you seemed more than comfortable where you were.” Geralt looked away from him, still seething with anger but looking like he couldn’t meet Jaksier’s eyes any more. 

Jaskier puffed up in indignation. Why the hell did no one trust him to look after himself. He hadn’t slept around like that in ages, so it wasn’t like people would still be mad at him about climbing into the wrong bed. “People have not tried to kill me for that for many years now, for your information. If you really must know, I haven’t exactly been giving them reason to in the last year and a bit, so there’s no reason for you to go charging around like I’m some damsel in distress. I was perfectly fine and had these people eating out of the palm of my hand.” 

Geralt flicked a look at him through his eyelashes, his eyes seeming to get heated when they caught on the makeup accentuating Jaskier’s eyes. “I’m sure that it was just your music they were interested in. We make enough money that you don’t need to let them paw all over you like that for a few coins.” 

The bard narrowed his eyes at Geralt for a moment. If it had been anyone else, he would have said that the witcher was jealous of the attention he had been getting. But that was ridiculous, why would Geralt care if people liked Jaskier or were interested in him in any way. Maybe he was just worried that Jaskier would get attached to them and then not want to leave with him, but that was ridiculous as well. “Geralt, I have no idea why you are reacting like this or what you are accusing me of. The only thing I was getting paid to do back there was to sing and play music for those lovely people. Not that it should be any of your interest as to who I decide to take to bed, it’s not like you have any claim over me in that regard.” 

Geralt lifted his eyes at that, amber blazing against the pale skin of his face and the bits of dead drowner that clung to him. Jaskier really needed to get him to take a bath or something, he was disgusting from his hunt and really needed to clean up before he made a mess of the room. Geralt took a long searching look at Jaskier’s face before he made a choked off sound in his throat, looking like he was at war with himself over something. It was starting to hurt Jaskier’s head how fast the evening had gone from such a fun, relaxing chance to make some money and talk to some lovely people to this weird conversation with Geralt seemingly accusing him of something and acting like he was possessed or something. 

“Honestly Geralt, you can’t just growl at me like some bloody ... wolf or something. You have to use words like a proper person, you non-verbal asshole, otherwise I have no idea what you are on about. I am so confused right now and all you are doing is making it worse, maybe you need to take a bloody bath and sort out your fucking ideas before you try and say something, because heavens forbid that you have to string together an intelligible sentence without time to sit down and brood for several-” 

Jaskier’s words were cut off by Geralt letting out another savage growl and his mouth slamming into Jaskier’s. The fact that the witcher was covered in blood and guts and other unmentionables didn’t register with Jaksier, his brain had shut down once the thought that Geralt was kissing him had registered. The bard let out a pathetic  _ eep _ sound in shock, standing frozen when the witcher pulled back away with another snarl and turned away from him, shoulder’s heaving with his breath. Jaskier blinked in shock, staring at Geralt’s back in confusion. What the hell had just happened? What in the name of all the gods had just happened to him? There must be a reasonable explanation to all of this. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier said in a dazed voice, frantically trying to process what had just happened. Maybe he had hit his head at some point this evening, or perhaps he had died. That must be what it was, he was dead and this was some kind of afterlife where he was being rewarded for all of the amazing things that he had done in life. But maybe he should just double check in case this was somehow reality and he had managed to break Geralt in some way to make him kiss him like that. “What just happened there?” 


	86. For Christ's sake just say something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt talk after the kiss.

Geralt stayed facing away from Jaskier and he could almost hear the man thinking. It was dead silent in the room, nothing to interfere with the way that Jaskier stared at Geralt’s back in absolute shock. 

“Geralt? Talk to me. Tell me I’m not losing my mind here.” 

Geralt hissed in a breath before replying. “I, I shouldn’t have, I, you shouldn’t have had to, I...” He lapsed back into silence without finishing a sentence. 

Jaskier let out a hoarse laugh “Um. Well. That proves that this isn’t a dream or anything. I am sure that dream you would be much more suave. Alright, if this is reality, then we need to deal with it. I am going to pretend for a moment that nothing just happened. You are going to get into that tub and clean some of the guts off of you before you begin to stink even worse. Then, once you have your words back, you can explain what the hell that was.” 

Geralt hummed at that, turning to look at him cautiously. His face was pink with embarrassment, but Jaskier just sighed and motioned to the bath. If he pressed Geralt for answers now all he would get back would be more panicked babble. The man needed some time to think before he would be able to actually explain himself. Geralt looked at him for a long moment before grunting and moving towards the bath. He dipped his hand in the water and frowned, casting a quick igni on the water to heat it further before turning to see Jaskier watching him intently. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt said awkwardly. The bard nodded, widening his eyes innocently as he looked at him. “Turn around so I can get in.” 

“Oh, yes, right well,” Jaskier mumbled, turning away and looking at his hands. He tried his best to ignore the way that he could hear Geralt undressing, that he now had in his mind what it felt like to be kissed by the man who was getting naked in the same room as him. 

Shit, he had kissed Geralt, he knew what it felt like to be kissed by the man he had been hopelessly in love with for over a decade. Not that he counted that as a real kiss, it had been just a quick press of lips against lips before Geralt had pulled away. He could only imagine what a real kiss would feel like, if Geralt had kissed him like he actually meant it. He should stop thinking about it, it was making his pants tighter than they should be for one thing and he also didn’t know what the man had meant by the kiss. Maybe it had just been a one time thing, or Geralt had gotten all riled up with something else and then Jaskier had just been the only one there and ended up with the kiss by proxy. And maybe he was thinking too much and was just going to make it all go wrong with his stupid thoughts. 

He heard Geralt climbing into the water and muttering under his breath about the salts and scents they had clearly put in the water for the customer that would have been using the room. Once he heard the water stop splashing about as Geralt settled in the water, he turned around and moved closer to the tub. 

“Let me help you get that crap out of your hair. How it isn’t all falling out at this point with all the shit you put it through I will never know. At least I am here to make sure that sometimes it gets the treatment it deserves.” Jaskier looked around the room. “Ohh, they even have some nice soaps we can use. Give me a minute, I’ll find one with the least annoying scent for you and then we can sort out the bird’s nest you have made here.”

Geralt was grumbling to himself under his breath as Jaskier quickly sniffed the vials and chose the one with the weakest scent. He had listened to the witchers whinge often enough about how overpowering some smells could be and reluctantly said goodbye to most of the strongly scented lotions that he had used on his skin and hair. It was an easy sacrifice to make, and meant that when he did get to dress up he could wear a subtle scent and have the witchers remarking on it for hours. 

He quickly moved back over to Geralt and started trying to pull some of the larger chunks of gunk out of Geralt’s hair. “I hope you are using this time to think of how you are going to answer my questions, Geralt. I deserve to know what the hell is going on with you when you come in and act all scowly and grumpy and then .... kiss me.” 

Geralt hummed again, sinking under the water until only his eyes were peering above the water. Jaskier smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “If you try and get out of this conversation, I will annoy you for as long as it takes to get you to answer me. And I can be very annoying, Geralt.” 

The witcher just hummed again, sounding amused at the bard’s words. He did allow Jaskier to wash his hair properly with no complaints, which was exactly what the bard needed to focus himself and not panic about what this upcoming conversation would hold. 

Once he had managed to get Geralt looking much cleaner, the witcher turned in the bath to face him. 

“Oh, are you actually going to use your words now? Should I look out the window to see if there is a flying pig?” Jaskier batted his eyelashes at him winningly and grinned when the witcher pushed a hand into his face to try and shut him up. If he could just keep his witcher happy then hopefully he wouldn’t rip Jaskier’s heart into a million tiny pieces with his words. 

“Jaskier, shut up and let me talk,” Geralt grumbled goodnaturedly. Jaskier rolled his eyes and showed the hand away, staring attentively at the witcher. 

“Fine. So, I kissed you. You know this, you were there too, but yes. I kissed you. You were just standing there with that makeup and your eyes looked so big and I had been worried that you were hurt but then you were here, with that other man, singing to him. You should only sing like that to me, not to random men in a brothel. I have been trying for weeks now to show you how I feel, I have asked Ciri and Yennefer and all the others how to get you to understand and nothing ever worked. I don’t know how else to tell you this Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked at him in confusion. “Fuck, it wasn’t drowners was it? You had to fight some kind of monster that has venom or something that drives you crazy. You poor thing, you have gone insane and now you are babbling and have no idea what you’re saying. Yennefer is going to fucking kill me for this, I am so dead, shit. Alright Jaskier, this will be fine, we just need to find a way to make Geralt better again, shit how am I going to do this.” 

There was no way in hell that Geralt was saying what it sounded like he was trying to say. Either Geralt had lost what little brains he had left during his latest hunt or maybe Jaskier was the one going insane. Shit, maybe he hadn’t recovered from that bloody fever he had had and this was all just the delusions of his sick brain. Sweet Melitele, why could he not catch a break. 

Geralt growled at him again. “Jaskier, are you not fucking listening to me? Why the hell are you such an idiot?” 

Jaskier scowled right back at him. “Hey, I am not the one talking rubbish here. I think we need to get you to a healer or something, you are clearly not well and we need to fix you before Yennefer decides to skin me to make herself a new coat. Fuck, I am so dead. Gods be good, Geralt, couldn’t you have lost your mind on someone else's watch?” 

Geralt stared at him in shock for a moment, his amber eyes round in his face. He shook his head in disbelief, looking at Jaskier like he was worried that he had been dropped on the head recently. Which was very rude when Jaskier was trying to figure out how to fix the fact that Geralt had clearly lost whatever sanity he had left. “You cannot be this stupid. I cannot be in love with someone this fucking stupid.” 

Jaskier knew that his mouth was hanging open in shock and that he should probably close it at some point but did the man that he had been crushing on for so gods damned long just say that he loved him? 


	87. You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments in wonderment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt have a little chat about the L word.

“You love me?” Jaskier said in a wondering tone. He said a quick prayer to every god he could think of,  _ please don’t let this be a dream. If this is a dream, it will crush me, just let me have this one thing _ . 

Geralt went a brilliant red in the face. “I... I meant that... fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is not how this was meant to go. Ciri is going to kill me for this. Fuck.” The poor witcher looked like he was on the verge of passing out in the bath in his panic but Jaskier was busy losing his mind over what he had just been told. 

“You said you love me. Geralt of Rivia, biggest, baddest witcher in the Continent, said that he loves me. I really must have died.” 

“Jaskier, for the love of all that is good in this shit hole of a world, you are not fucking dead. Stop being dramatic for one fucking minute.” Geralt sighed at the bard but nothing was breaking through the absolute high that Jaskier was on. 

“Do not ruin this moment for me,Geralt, let me bask in the idea that you love me for a few more moments before reality sets back in and you explain how this is actually a very normal thing and not at all what I want to have happening right now.” 

Jaskier beamed at him, his heart in his eyes. He knew that he should really be sensible right now and start gearing himself up for whatever horrific way Geralt was going to rip his heart to shreds, but he just needed to give himself a few moments to pretend that all of his wants and dreams were coming true for just a few moments. He was an idiot like that, he would own it, but at least he would have the memory of thinking for a few precious moments that Geralt returned his emotions. 

“Wait, what do you mean bask in the moment? Jaskier, this is meant to be the part where you run away screaming. Don’t fucking tell me that Eskel and Lambert were right?” Geralt was looking at him in a strange mixture of hope and disbelief that made Jaskier’s heart jump into his throat. Fuck, this could not be happening to him. Not in a room of some random brothel with shitty eyeliner probably smeared all over his face and Geralt sitting in a tub with the remains of monsters that he had washed off of him. Romantic this was not. 

“I have no idea what those two said to you but why the hell would I run away screaming? I have been following you around like a lovesick idiot for years now and making everyone else miserable with my stupidly obvious unrequited love for you, why the hell would I run away from you?” Jaskier was not sure what the hell was happening here but it seemed like Geralt was professing his love to him and this was not what he was expecting from this conversation. He was minutes away from trying to run away from this conversation but if he stuck it out something amazing could happen. He would kick himself if he passed up on the opportunity to have his feelings returned, so he just needed to suck it up and deal with the awful thoughts and doubts in his head for a moment. 

“The fuck do you mean unrequited love? I was the one who loved you and knew that you would never love someone like me.” Geralt looked so confused at what was happening right now, it took everything that Jaskier had not to pat him on the head and soothe him. He would have given into the urge if this wasn’t one of the most important conversations of his entire life. 

Jaskier rolled his eyes at Geralt’s words. “Have you honestly listened to a single song that I have been singing? I haven’t exactly been discreet in my appreciation for your various attributes. Hell, I’ve had people come up to me in inns asking if I was alright after a few of the less than optimistic songs. It has resulted in some free drinks and some pity money, but still, it has been rather embarrassing knowing that the entire bloody Continent knew all about the valiant White Wolf and his lovesick bard. Even Yennefer keeps teasing me about it, albeit her teasing is more like digging her perfectly manicured talons into my heart and ripping it to shreds but I know she means it with love so we’ll let it slide.” Geralt looked slightly worried at the mention of his ex so Jaskier desperately tried to change the subject. 

“That’s actually how I ended up meeting Lambert and Eskel. I was rather distraught after you so callously threw me away after that whole thing with the dragon and Lambert found me drowning my sorrows. He was super sweet about it, wanted to kick your ass for breaking my heart and all that, but he really made me realise how much I did love you. It wasn’t just the travelling and the adventure that came along with you that I loved, it was you with all your brooding and your onion smell and your inability to understand how much people care about you and worry about you. And I should really stop talking before my stupid mouth gets me in trouble here.” Jaksier mimed sealing his lips shut and smiled widely at the slightly stunned look on Geralt’s face. He really did enjoy breaking his witcher with his incessant talking, but this was probably not the best time for it. “Go on then, it's your turn to talk. That is generally how conversations are had, I know that this is a concept that you struggle with.” 

Geralt scoffed at the bard. “You are really making me doubt my own intelligence here. How the hell I love you, I will never know.” 

“No! You said you love me, there are no take backs until you explain yourself properly. And even then, you had better have the most amazing reason possible for getting my hopes up and then dashing them into a million tiny pieces or I will get Yennefer to make you into a witcher shaped rug for her house. You know she will, she’s my bestest friend in this whole wide world now, not including Eskel and Lambert and Vesemir and Scorpion and Lady Horsington, oh and Roach of course but that’s beside the point. The point is, if you suddenly tell me this is all some horrific joke at my expense and that you never really loved me, I will get Yennefer to do unspeakably painful things to you, which we both know that she can do it, and then I will run away into the wilds and live out the rest of my life in complete misery mourning the way I had my heart tragically broken. No pressure or anything though.” 

Geralt’s face was still a mask of confusion, but at least humour was creeping in now. That was the best Jaskier could hope for when his stupid mouth wouldn’t shut up, gods, sometimes he wished he could just be quiet for a moment but then he supposed he wouldn’t be him without it. 

“If you would just shut up for a moment, Jaskier, instead of prattling on like some bloody gossiping housewife, I would be able to actually talk to you like a normal person. Fuck, Ciri had all of these ideas about how I was meant to court you and you just had to go and ruin them all with that bloody makeup and the climbing on other people’s laps and your bloody annoyingly sexy singing.” 

“You think my singing is sexy?” Jaskier said in a hopeful voice, looking at Geralt through his eyelashes. 

“Yes,” Geralt said, sounding as if the words were pulled from his chest unwillingly. “You sound like a fucking wet dream when you start singing all slow and deep like you were, and with that makeup around your eyes making them look so big and blue and that fucking stuff on your mouth .... for fuck’s sake, Jaskier, what is a man to do?” The witcher looked almost angry at having to admit this to the bard, and he grinned and placed a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth in reward for Geralt’s forthcomingness. 

“The same thing I have had to do with your bloody sexy low voice always rasping and growling about things, not to mention that thing you do with your mouth when you're concentrating. I have spent far too many nights with just my hand and the thought of your stupid concentration face, Geralt, it’s enough to give a man a heart attack when he sees you pull that face in the middle of a fight with whatever disgusting creature you decide to go after and my fucking body starts thinking of very different situations.” 

Jaskier grinned mischievously at the way that Geralt’s eyes went wide and heated at his words, the man shifting in the water to find a more comfortable position. Well, this could make things fun. Jaskier sent his witcher the sexiest smile he could think of and stood, dropping his clothes to the floor and motioning for Geralt to move over in the bath. A little bit of monster guts was more than acceptable for naked cuddles with the witcher that had just professed his love to him. 


	88. Love its a game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is a little dramatic with his love.

The next few days after their dramatic revelations of their feelings were a weird mixture of absolutely perfect and also hideously awkward. They had moved on after a while from the town, people not too keen on having a witcher hang around for any length of time. Jaskier knew that he was not the best at reading the room, but Geralt was weirdly not too angry at him for being all over the poor man. He knew that he was being rather ridiculously clingy and over the top, but for some reason Geralt had yet to tell him to calm down with it all. If anything, the witcher was egging him on, teasing him and winding him up when he was in one of his moods. 

He had almost gotten them both in trouble in a few places. One inn in particular hadn’t appreciated the bard they had hired to entertain them all singing increasingly crass songs about the witcher in the corner while said witcher stared him down, clearly challenging him to make it really sensational. Apparently singing rather thinly veiled metaphors about Geralt’s  _ great sword _ was not what the people wanted and was in fact inappropriate. Jaskier was sure that they were all just insanely jealous that he had a big scary witcher desperately in love with him and he really should be nicer than to rub it all in their faces, but still. How was he meant to know that he had somehow won the witcher’s heart and not crow about it at every possible opportunity? 

While it had gotten him kicked out of a few different inns and various public gatherings, well, it was a small price to pay to have Geralt paying so much attention to him. It had almost been scary, in fact, just how nice Geralt had been to him lately. He wasn’t complaining, not really, but it was starting to scare him a little. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Geralt to realise that he had just saddled himself with the most annoying bard in the entire Continent, and then it would all be over.

Like the stupid bloody fool that he was, this drove him onto greater and greater theatrics. Where he had just been rather affectionate, he started to cling to Geralt every moment of the day, barely letting the poor man have a moment to himself. Where he had been a bit chatty beforehand, prone to teasing comments and songs to pass the time away, he was now overly loquacious, constantly showering Geralt in an endless stream of words and mixing his overly flowery metaphors at every turn. He was constantly making lewd jokes and messing around like a child, but for some reason Geralt never said a word against him. Hells, he was even starting to drive himself insane with his stupid posturing, but the witcher just bore it all with a small smile on his face. 

He knew he was being a little shit and that he should cut it out before he ruined the very best thing in his life, but he couldn’t help himself. There was this nagging voice in the back of his head that was convinced that he would ruin this somehow, that he would drive Geralt away, and if it was going to end then he was going to make sure that it was not his fault at all. He would not be accused of not loving Geralt enough to want this thing they had between us to work, but for some reason his stupid brain took that thought and converted it into  _ let’s make the witcher really think about what he’s getting himself into here _ . And Jaskier did hate that he was like this and knew it wasn’t fair on Geralt at all, but his stupid little brain and the stupid inclination to take Geralt to the nearest body of water and never let him leave was getting the better of him. He wasn’t too proud to accept that what was happening was ridiculous, just too stupid to stop it. 

Somehow the days of Jaskier being an annoying shit stretched on into weeks and then it was time for them to start heading to Oxenfurt to prepare for their meet up, with Jaskier getting more and more extreme in his stupidity. His songs weren’t even trying to cover up what he was singing about, the song talking about how the White Wolf could leave a man walking bowlegged not going down too well with his audience even when Geralt smirked smugly at him and let out this horrifically sexy little growl when the bard walked close to him that had him going weak at the knees. 

But still, they were on their way back towards Oxenfurt and Jaskier did not have nearly enough coin to treat his witchers like he deserved. He needed to pull his head out of his ass and start singing his actually good songs so that he could make some money instead of trying to wind Geralt up every moment. Yes, it did leave to some unimaginably good sex when he managed to get Geralt all fired up, but he really needed to get enough money to treat his man like he deserved. Geralt needed to be pampered and by Melitele Jaskier would make sure that he made his darling witcher feel like the luckiest man in the world. 

He just needed to get it all out of his head for a moment, find a way to stop thinking about all the ways that this could go wrong and just focus on getting what he needed to make sure it all went well. At their next stop into a town, he would stop with the theatrics and just do what he needed to do, he just needed to wait patiently at this campsite for Geralt to return from his latest endeavour off into the bushes to get rid of a nekker nest that had been annoying the small village a few days back and Geralt had so gallantly said he would clear out for free once he saw exactly how scare of coin they already were. He pulled out his lute and set about amusing himself, trying to decide which of his songs he thought would make the most money. He was halfway through trying to decide if it would be too much to bowl up and sing his entire witcher set when Geralt made his way back into the clearing, staggering as he dripped blood and various other fluids. 

Jaskier saw red, the sound of rushing in his ears as he hurried over to Geralt and tried to support him without touching any of the many wounds littering his body. 

“What the fucking fuck happened? Where are you fucking hurt? Stupid fucking question, Jaksier, the poor man is hurt everywhere. Did you kill them all or do I need to go and murder some little assholes? This is why you should never leave me behind, Geralt, how the fuck am I meant to protect you if you leave me behind all the time?” Jaskier managed to get Geralt to sit by the campfire and immediately started looking over his wounds. He winced at the ridiculous amount of scratches and small bites he had covering every inch of exposed skin. “You do realise that you are meant to kill the fuckers, not let them use you as a chew toy?” 

Geralt growled under his breath as Jaskier flicked confidently through his pack, pulled out the correct ointments, and started smearing them onto his skin. “I didn’t try to let them bite me, there were more of the fuckers then I anticipated. They kept coming out of fucking nowhere, had to use a few dimeritium bombs to get them the fuck off of me but that meant I ended up picking shrapnel out of myself on the way back to you.” Geralt patted at Jaskier’s hands as they fluttered over his skin, gentling all his hurts. 

“Those assholes better be thankful that you fixed their monster problem. Fuckers probably thought that they were getting the deal of a lifetime when you said you would do it all for free. That settles it, once we get to the next town you are resting up and looking after yourself while I make some money for a change. You can be the lady of leisure for once while I provide for my stunningly attractive darling.” Jaskier pressed a quick kiss to Geralt’s mouth when he went to protest, grinning when the witcher frowned at him when he pulled back. “Tonight you can rest up, then I can load you up on Roach and I can be the daring leader of our little merry band of two. I promise to not sing about your giant dick in front of company this time, for some reason people do not appreciate it like they should.” 

Geralt sighed, giving in to Jaskier’s doting and allowing the bard to start fluffing about with the bedroll and various blankets making him comfortable. “You can sing about my dick as much as you like, Jaskier, you aren’t scaring me off.” 

Jaskier looked at him in shock. “I would never try to ...” 

The witcher interrupted him with a sardonic smile. “Sure, you were just trying to smother me for no reason. I have put up with your dramatics for years now, Jaskier, I know exactly what I am in for. If you feel like you need to tell the world that we are together, that’s fine. I won’t leave you for being who you are, as long as you don’t start pissing on me like a tom cat marking his territory.” 

Jasier spluttered in denial for a moment before smiling softly at Geralt’s patient gaze. “Fine, I’ll tone it down a little. Although, if anyone touches my witcher, I might just have to hurt them.” He grinned at him, revelling in the way that Geralt chuckled at his threats, before going back to fussing over his darling. 

The witcher watched Jaskier mutter away to himself about how much he would pamper his witcher once they got to town with a small smile twisting his lips. Jaskier was so glad that his man let him take care of him when he was hurt. He loved him so much. 


	89. Leave without a fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier runs into some trouble.

They started to move slowly towards Oxenfurt, drawing closer and closer as Jaskier got more and more excited about the prospect of seeing all of his bonded again. The annoying water noises had started drifting through his dreams and he had been playing more and more with his charm bracelet, fingering each of them repeatedly to keep himself calm. He had managed to make much more money now that he was ensuring that he sung songs about something other than Geralt’s rather impressive anatomy, people travelling the roads with them more than happy to throw a few coins his way for a few songs before moving on, and he had worked in each small village they had passed through. 

His coin purse was pleasantly full and he was day dreaming of exactly how he would use it to treat his darlings while Geralt was off trying to hunt up some dinner for them. He had graciously allowed Geralt to go and see what he could find, fed up with the dried meats and foraged goodies that they had been eating between villages. He was looking forward to some rabbit or something, as well as the chance to praise his big strong hunter for providing for him when he returned victorious. 

There was an odd rustling in the woods which Jaskier brushed off, too busy thinking about how he could colour coordinate the outfits he would have made for them all to worry about any little critters bustling around. It wasn’t like he was expecting the blow to his head that knocked him out cold, but that didn’t stop the burst of pain that burst like a star behind his eyes as the world went dark.

* * *

Jaskier woke up slowly, keeping his eyes closed to try and keep the horrific pounding in his head from worsening. He listened carefully, sighing to himself when he could hear the usual bustling about and bickering of your run of the mill bandits. Fucking idiots, this was never going to end well for them. Jaskier saw no reason to concern himself with trying to escape, he knew that Geralt would be right on his tail and more than happy to exact whatever revenge he saw fit. Jaskier was more than happy to play the damsel in distress, mainly because it would mean watching Geralt get all protective and possessive of him, something that had Jaskier’s toes curling in delight. 

“Look at all of this coin! We would be able to really make the most of it in the next town, live it up like kings! Hell, we could even try selling some of this shit he has, I’m sure that these clothes look well made, they should be worth some good crowns if we can find the right buyer.” 

Jaskier winced at the harsh voice, not wanting to imagine what they were doing to his lovely things. If they ruined his things he would have to make them pay, fantasies about watching Geralt deal to them all like an avenging spirit be damned. He let out a low slip of sound, smiling as he felt water respond to him and slowly seep across the ground from their pack to him. Once he managed to get enough water dampening the ground under him, he had it rise in a gentle ribbon up his leg until it touched skin, sighing as he allowed it to start healing him. Once he managed to get the headache gone, he cracked open his eyes and winced at what he saw. 

He was clearly bound to a tree to keep him out of the way while the four would be bandits pawed through his bags. Thankfully, it looked like they had left his lute behind at the campsite, so he didn’t need to worry about it being damaged by these fools. He knew that Geralt would make sure that it was safe. He was a good man like that. 

“Oi, leave my stuff alone!” Jaskier yelled at them, frowning when they started pulling out his more elaborate doublets and making comments about what kind of puffed up peacock would pay for them. “You lot wouldn’t know quality if it bit you on your asses, so leave them for someone who knows their worth.” 

The bandits turned slowly to look at Jaskier, who was glaring at them as ferociously as a man tied to a tree could. “Shut up! You’re our prisoner, so you don’t want to make us mad,” one of them called out, picking at his nose with one hand as he spoke. Jaskier looked at him in absolute disgust. 

“One, you lot are disgusting, seriously disgusting. I am thoroughly disgusted that your disgusting paws are going through all of my stuff. Two, I am not going to be afraid of some second rate wanna be bandits. You lot can barely tell your ass from your ankles, so excuse me if I’m not cowering in fear. Besides, you have no idea what is coming for you.” Jaskier grinned in anticipation at them, his smile only widening when they shuffled back from him nervously. 

“Shut your mouth. We captured you and we could kill you if we wanted,” another one stuttered. This one looked as if he had rolled around in the mud recently. Jaskier was really disgusted with the level of cleanliness here, these people needed to learn how to bathe. They also needed to learn to think about who they went about kidnapping, but Jaskier really doubted that they would be having to worry about it much longer. Not when Geralt was probably on his way right now. 

“Look, you lot are not the scariest thing I have ever met, besides the startling lack of basic hygiene. But still, I think it would be in your best interest to untie me and head for the hills as fast as you can. You might just survive the night if you do that.” Jaskier tried to sound reassuring and friendly, but clearly it wasn’t working on these assholes. 

“Don’t you fucking threaten us, we will end you, bitch,” cried the one who looked like he fancied himself a leader. He was the biggest of the four and looked rather violent, so that was probably all it took to be in charge of a band of ruffians like this. “You don’t get to tell us what to do here, we are in charge and you should just be happy that we aren’t killing you now. You should fetch a pretty price if we sell you to come slaver, they usually pay top dollar for strong, healthy looking men like you. Then you can spend the rest of your life in some mine making money for the lovely lords and ladies that want to pay for you. It’s a great plan and will make us rich.” He looked around at his companions, clearly wanting them to back him up. They saw his look and joined in with muttered agreements and comments on how they would spend the money. 

Jaskier heard the sharp cry of an owl and smiled happily to himself. “That sounds like a great plan, but there is just one little problem there, my good sirs.” The men looked at him in annoyance, the leader stepping forward threateningly with a knife in his hand. “You see, I wasn’t travelling alone. My darling boyfriend was with me, and unfortunately for you, he’s a witcher.” 

The man who hadn’t spoken yet looked around nervously, tugging at the sleeve of Mud-for-brains. “Maybe we should leave. I don’t want to mess with no witcher. Those freaks eat babies and fuck monsters, I don’t want to tangle with that shit.” 

Mr Bigshot glared at him. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. He’s just lying to make us let him go, fucking psycho is all alone and thinks that he can save himself by talking big. He doesn’t scare me. Maybe we have some fun with him before we sell him off, really get our money’s worth out of him.” 

Jaskier laughed. “You should listen to your friend there, he has the right idea. My boyfriend is one of the scariest people in the Continent, and he’s here to save me.” 

“I wouldn’t have to save you if you fixed your own problems. Really Jaskier, I can see that you untied your ropes not long after you woke up, dealing with these four should be child’s play for you,” came Geralt’s gravelly voice, floating in the wind from the trees surrounding them. The four men swore, clustering together and peering into the trees with swords and daggers in hand as if they had a chance against the witcher. 

“Mm, yes, you are right,” Jaskier said, standing and shrugging the ropes away from him. The bandits swore, moving threateningly towards Jaskier and then recoiling when he bared serrated teeth at them in a vicious smirk. “But it is much more fun waiting for my darling to come and rescue me. You wouldn’t deny me of inspiration for my next song, would you? I think something about how the White Wolf saved his treasured companion from the ruffians in the woods would be a rather touching song, although I will have to embellish rather a lot to make this sad bunch into a decent threat for you.” 

Geralt strolled out of the trees, reaching lazily over his shoulder to pull his steel sword into his hands. He smiled fondly at the bard, shaking his head in exasperation. “You really do have a knack for getting into trouble. I almost feel back for these idiots, they had no idea what they were doing kidnapping you.” 

The four men let out terrified screams, smacking into each other in their desperate scramble to escape. Geralt continued to walk over to Jaskier, pulling him into a rough embrace and ignoring the panicked cries as the idiots ran off, leaving all of their things behind in their haste to escape the terrifying witcher.

“My big strong witcher, I knew you would come and rescue little old me,” Jaskier cooed, swooning dramatically against Geralt’s side. The witcher ran a gentle hand over his head, checking for injuries, before brushing a soft kiss against his mouth. 

“Maybe I should have left you to them, would have given me some peace and quiet,” he teased, pulling lightly at Jaskier’s hair. “But then Yenna and Ciri would be on my case, so I suppose I should make sure you don’t get into any more trouble until we reach Oxenfurt.” 

“Hey!” Jaksier protested, grinning madly up at his witcher. “I resent that! You know that you would miss me terribly if I was really kidnapped.” 

Geralt pulled the bard up into his arms, holding him as if he was a bride being carried over the threshold. Jaskier relaxed into his arms, the display of strength sending heat curling in his lower stomach. “I wouldn’t know what to do with the peace and quiet anymore, so I guess I’m stuck with you. Come on, let’s get your things and head back to Roach. I left her looking after your lute. Then we can get back on the road to Oxenfurt, we should only be a few more day’s travel.” 

Jaskier sighed and flung his arms around Geralt’s neck. “Fine, ruin my fun. Let’s go, I have lots of plans for Oxenfurt so the sooner we arrive the sooner I can start getting you sized up for your new outfit. I hope you are ready to absolutely stun all those nobles and lords, you are going to be the belle of the ball, dear heart.” 

Geralt sighed and started gathering Jaskier’s things with one hand while maintaining his hold on the bard with the other. “I can’t wait,” he deadpanned.


	90. You’ll feel my fingers down your back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt arrive in Oxenfurt.

They had been in Oxenfurt for a few days now. Jaskier had managed to reign in his ridiculous need to try and test Geralt’s devotion to him, but Geralt was not coping well with being taken care of by his bard. Jaskier had insisted on paying for their room at the inn, as well as their meals, and had forbidden Geralt from looking for work while they were in this town, saying that he needed to learn how to relax and let Jaskier take care of him occasionally. He had encouraged his darling to spend his time exploring the local markets and had even caught Geralt enjoying himself telling tales with the locals in the evenings while Jaskier performed. Unfortunately, the witcher was as bad as Jaskier when it came to wanting to be busy all the time. 

Jaskier had seen him looking around for notice boards in the town square a couple of times, his thinly veiled excuse of looking for an apothecary to see if he could find new ingredients for his potions not exactly holding up when Jaskier pointed out that the apothecary was literally two doors down from where they were staying. The poor man was almost bursting with energy, clearly used to being able to expel it with various monster hunts and sparring with his brothers, but Jaskier just wanted to be able to spoil his man for a change, was that too much to ask for. 

Geralt was good enough not to complain to his face about it, but Jaskier could see how it was eating away at him. He wanted to find something that Geralt could do to release all of that energy in a way that didn’t involve him getting sliced and diced but how the hell was he meant to keep his man entertained until the others turned up. There was only so often that he could divert his man’s energy into other ... more pleasurable activities, but by all the gods he was trying. It was making it hell to perform with his usual vigour when he was occasionally walking a bit funny, but it was a price he would willingly pay to keep Geralt happy. Besides, he had made a fair amount of coin over the last week, and he would be able to spoil all of his darling bonded once they started arriving. 

He knew it would only be a few more days now at most before they started arriving. The pair of them had taken to watching the maps they had every night, checking where everyone was and how much longer they would be. It was both exciting and also nerve wracking, to think that they would have to deal with the reactions of everyone once they realised that Geralt and Jaskier had finally pulled their heads out of their asses and talked things through. Geralt was taking it all with his usual stoicism, but Jaskier was fairly bursting out of his skin with nerves. Of course, that made it more irritating for the witcher who was already edgy with all his extra energy. 

Something needed to happen to break the stupid cycle of them winding each other up more and more, and it happened on one rather gloomy day when they had been stuck inside for hours and Jaskier was trying to prevent Geralt from climbing the walls in frustration by washing and braiding his hair for him while singing dirty ditties in his ear. 

They had both agreed not to check the map today. From the way that the little dots representing the various witchers were travelling, they would most likely be a few days away as they seemed to be picking up multiple contracts and sticking around different villages on their way. Yennefer and Ciri were likely to stay in Vengerberg until they saw the others gathering, so there was no reason to be worried about them dropping in unannounced for a short while. It gave Geralt and Jaskier some time to talk, to figure out how they wanted to play this once the others arrived. 

“Why don’t we just tell them? It’s not like you would be able to lie to them convincingly,” Geralt said, his voice relaxed as Jaskier played with his hair. 

“I can too lie to them. I am a performer, Geralt, it’s what I do. It’s you I worry about, do you really think you can contain yourself with all of this next to you?” Jaskier leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of Geralt’s mouth and got rather distracted by the hungry way Geralt took his lips. He pulled back when he needed a breath, tugging lightly at the white hair in his hands when Geralt tried to follow him with his mouth. “The question is, do you want Yennefer, Eskel, and Lambert teasing us mercilessly and getting their grubby little paws all over whatever this is that we have between us so soon?” 

Geralt made a small confused noise in his throat. “What do you mean whatever this is between us? You’re mine, Jaskier, and I’m yours, there’s nothing complicated about it at all.” 

Jaskier laughed in delight, leaning forward to dance kisses along Gerat’s face again, teasingly refusing to allow Geralt to catch his lips with his own. “Dear heart, you always say the sweetest things! Of course I am yours, and you are my own big strong witcher, my sweet little white wolf. I just want to make sure that you are prepared for exactly how nosy they are all going to be. You know that Yennefer and Lambert in particular are going to be absolutely unbearable when they find out.” 

“True, but do you really want to deal with how angry Yennefer would be if she thinks you tried to keep it from her? Much easier to just get it over and done with, then we can make the most of our time with them all rather than worrying about trying to keep things from them all. Much more fun.” 

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully. “You do have a good point. It will be fun to see their faces as well, I am sure they are all going to be thoroughly shocked that we managed to figure it out. They seemed to have a rather dim view of our intelligence. Rude, if you ask me, we are both incredibly intelligent, just apparently not in telling when the person that we love is actually in love with us too rather than merely tolerating our presence. But that’s besides the point, and it means that we get the chance to rub it in their faces that we figured it out without their help.” 

Geralt chuckled. “And you would never miss a chance to make Lambert and Eskel look foolish. Now, are you done playing with my hair or do I have to sit here for another hour while the water goes cold?” 

“Hush your mouth, like I would ever allow your water to grow cold. What kind of fossegrim do you think I am? Hm, cold water indeed. You need to sit still and wait while I finish with this braid. It’s going to make you look like the most fearsome warrior out there with your hair in this braid crown. Stylish and also practical, no one will be grabbing and yankingyou around by your hair. See, I am incredibly kind and caring and also practical!” Jaskier put the finishing touches on the braid he was constructing before stepping back and admiring his work. 

Geralt’s hair was arranged in rather ornate plaits that all wrapped around his head, creating a rather tight structure that did indeed resemble a circlet. It looked sturdy enough, as if it would hold together with Geralt’s usual daily life, but he would need to test it out. 

“Maybe I should grow my hair out again,” Jaskier mused. “Get it long enough to plait it again. It is rather useful in keeping it out of the way. I think that what I’ve done to your hair should manage to hold up for a few days if need be, it might be one that we replicate of the road to make sure no beasties get hold of your glorious locks.” 

Geralt sighed, patting gingerly at his hair, before making grabby hands at Jaskier. The bard let out a put upon sigh, trying to hide the smile inching his lips upward as he undressed and clambered into the bath with Geralt. He moved so that he was sitting astride Geralt’s lap facing him and gently pressed his nose against the witchers. 

“Hello you,” he breathed, smiling at the rumbling purr that escaped his dear heart. “Look at how beautiful you look like this. All clean and pretty and completely mine.” 

The witcher’s purrs kept up even as the man scowled at the bard. “‘M not pretty,” he grumbled, huffing at the bard’s grin. 

“Yes you are, dear heart. You are the prettiest witcher i have ever met, but don’t tell the others. I think I might be skinned if they hear me, even if it is true.”

Geralt puffed out a breath. “Let them try, I would beat them black and blue if they laid a hand on you.” 

“I know,dear heart, I know. You know that your brothers would never hurt me. Rough me up a bit, sure, but those big softies would never hurt me. Besides, they can’t complain if I call my lover pretty. It is nothing but the truth.” 

Geralt sighed and pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “Thank you, Jaskier. I know I don’t have the pretty words you do, but you know how I feel about you.” 

“Oh, I know,” Jaskier said with a satisfied smirk. “And I don’t need flowery words, I can make them up myself. I just need my dear heart with me and all is well.” 


	91. We don’t have time to fuck around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt have a guest.

Jaskier was having a lazy morning in bed, having managed to convince Geralt that there was no reason for them to be up before noon, when there was a knock on the door and it was flung open. He startled on the bed, only half registering the way that Geralt sighed in exasperation rather than reacting in alarm to the trespasser as he spun around to face the door. 

“Look at you fucking two!” Lambert crowed, waltzing into the room and dropping on top of them on the bed, ignoring the way that they were both half dressed and instead kicking off his boots and getting comfortable. “Are you two idiots finally talking about your feelings and making the beast with two backs? I’m so proud of you both!” He wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them into his side and ignoring the way that Jaskier spluttered indignantly. Geralt seemed resigned to the attention, allowing Lambert to manhandle him with a put upon expression on his face. 

“I thought you would still be a day or two away!” Jaskier said, wrapping his arms around the youngest witcher and smiling in delight. “I missed you all so much, it’s going to be amazing once we have everyone all back together again. You have to tell me all about what you have been doing. Have you been eating properly? Have people been polite to you or do I need to go and kick some ass? I can do it you know, just ask Geralt about the bandits we scared off together.” 

“Breathe, Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, pulling the bard from Lambert’s arms and into his own. He stroked a soothing hand down Jaskier’s side until the bard rolled his eyes at him and took some exaggerated deep breaths, ignoring the way that it helped to ease a bit of the tension he felt thrumming through his veins at having another of his bonded so close to him again. 

“Wow, you really are a proper thing, like Yennefer said. I thought you would just be fucking but you’re acting like an old married couple. How the mighty have fallen!” Lambert was looking at the pair of them in bemusement. He seemed genuinely confused that they were both so caring to each other, it made Jaskier sad that his witchers never expected good things for each other. 

“Rude, Lambert. Have you lot been spying on us magically? That’s unfair, you shouldn’t get to spy when I have to go months without really knowing if you are all alright. I’m the one with the stupid magic bond that makes me all la-la when I can’t see you all the time, why do I get left out.” Jaskier pouted and cuddled up against Geralt more in annoyance. Lambert pulled a face as the bard wormed further away from him, clearly wanting more bard hugs but unwilling to actually ask for them. Jaskier poked his tongue out at him, annoyed that they had all been keeping it from him. 

“We haven’t been spying on you, you big idiot, just taking bets on how long it would take you both to sort out all the shit that was keeping you apart. Yennefer thought that you would figure it out before we met up in Oxenfurt, so I guess she’s winning the pot this time. Now it’s just down to who figured it out first, come on, you have to tell me. I still have a chance to make some money back here from that witch bitch with her stupidly good guesses.” 

Jaskier allowed Lambert’s words and the way that Geralt was still patting him like a wild animal that he wanted to gentle to ease the tension from his body. “Fine, but I won’t tell you any details. You assholes shouldn’t be betting on me and Geralt, we are your friends, not the latest bloody entertainment for you lot to gawk at. Now, get the fuck off of my bed, I was planning on having a rather romantic morning with Geralt here, and I don’t think that either of us are looking to add someone to our fun.” 

Lambert laughed at that, springing up from the bed and grinning at them both. “Fine, fine, enjoy your morning fuck. I’ll head downstairs and get a drink, it was a rather hard ride to get here so soon. Once you lot finish basking in your glorious love, we can go and find some good shops. I made a fair amount of coin and I get the feeling that Ciri will not be impressed if we do not have gifts for the little tyrant on her arrival.” With a mocking bow, he swept from the room and slammed the door shut behind him. 

Geralt groaned and rolled onto his back, spreading his arms and legs out across the bed while Jaskier was lying on top of him. “Thank fuck that asshole is gone. Now we can get back to what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted.” With a wolfish grin, he rolled and pulled Jaskier under him, ignoring his high pitched shriek to bury his face in his bard’s neck and keep him entertained for the next hour or so. 

Once they both managed to extract themselves from the bed and make themselves presentable, they wandered down to the main room to find Lambert lurking in a corner, looking suitably dark and brooding as several people clustered around him making requests for various problems they needed solving. Lambert nodded seriously, clearly making mental notes on all of their contracts before nodding brusquely to dismiss them and turning an annoyed smirk on Geralt. 

“Why the fuck are these people complaining that the witcher who has been staying here hasn’t helped with any of their problems? Have you really been so busy shagging the life out of each other that you haven’t taken a single contract?” 

Geralt turned a suspicious frown on Jaskier who laughed nervously. “For some reason that I think Jaskier will need to explain, none of them have approached me with their problems. I did think it was odd that they would stare at me but when they started towards me they would always get distracted by whatever Jaskier was singing.” 

“Funny story, dear heart, my adorable lovely beautiful witcher who has very much needed to take a break from his work and not get clawed to pieces every five seconds. I may have been stopping people from asking you to help with their issues all the time. I just wanted you to have some time to relax and enjoy Oxenfurt, not have to work all the time and get hurt again.” Jaskier batted his eyelashes hopefully at Geralt, ignoring the fact that Lambert was laughing at the pair of them. 

“Jaskier, I’m not mad,” Geralt reassured, “but you need to stop making choices for me. You get mad if I do it for you, so you need to let me do the job that I know and was trained for.” He pressed a quick kiss to Jaskier’s cheek when the bard nodded shamefacedly before turning to Lambert. “Anything interesting that we can do together, so just lots of small ones that we can divide up between us?” 

Lambert grinned violently, clearly excited to get to work. “There’s a couple of minor ones, the usual bad luck charms and shit, but there is a fun one, something that it sounds like Jsakier could be of use with as well. Apparently there’s something polluting the water just out of town where several people have set up a smaller crafting village, something that seems to be making people sick in exciting and unnatural ways. Lots of dreams of rather menacing objects in the water and various other not so nice signs, but no stories of monsters or anything in the area. Might be worth taking Jaskier and seeing if he can sniff anything out to make our lives easier.” 

Geralt hummed under his breath, turning to look down at Jaskier’s pleading face. “I suppose we can take him along this time, just for some reconnaissance. But if anything dangerous shows up, you get out of range fast and make sure you are safe, you hear me?” 

Jaskier nodded, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Sure thing, let’s go chase some monsters. I can show you just how useful I am on a hunt, Geralt, since I didn’t get a chance to show you with those bandits and all. You’ll see just how useful I am and then I can make sure that you don’t get hurt and we all go home happy for some amazing post hunt sex!” 

Lambert chuckled. “Ah, yeah, sure. Jaskier, I think you have sex on the brain, my friend. Geralt’s dick isn’t that impressive, you honestly went for the least impressive witcher I’m sorry to say.” He laughed harder when Geralt snapped his teeth at him before allowing the bard to soothe him with pats to the head,careful not to dislodge the braid. “Come on, mister fancy hair. Let’s go see what we can find. I suppose I’ll have to do all the hard work while you two make mooneyes at each other, so this is going to be just great.” 

“Shut up Lambert,” Jaskier threw over his shoulder as he hustled them both out the door. “If you grew your hair out I could braid it too. As it is, I promise I will wash your hair for you later. Poor stuff, it looks like you haven’t taken any care of it since spring began, you heathen.” 

The two witchers exchanged long suffering looks as they followed behind Jaskier, Geralt gently directing him in the way that Lambert indicated with a hand to the small of his back while the bard chattered away happily about how exciting their little adventure would be.


	92. They thought us blind, we were just blinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys set out on their hunt.

They barely got out of the village to try and find this polluted water before they ran into Eskel and Vesemir travelling together, ginning and calling down the path to the three of them in greeting. Eskel didn’t even bother dismounting from Scorpion, pulling Jaskier up and into the air in a hug, laughing at the way Jaskier couldn’t contain his own glee even as he protested the treatment. Geralt, Vesemir and Lambert laughed at the spectacle, Lambert quickly pulling Jaskier from Eksel for his own hugs and then handing him off to Vesemir. The jokes the men started tossing around about Jaskier smelling far too strongly of Geralt’s ridiculous onion smell had a warm feeling resting in the pit of the bard’s stomach. His wolves were all together again and happy to see him and Geralt so close. 

After filling in the other men on their contract, they decided to join and hunt together. The four witchers were openly delighted to be hunting together the younger three in particular teasing each other and making rude jokes as they walked while Vesemir occasionally added in his two coins worth. Jaskier was content to soak up the attention, being passed from witcher to witcher to be hugged and held. Lambert and Eskel in particular seemed almost to be trying to get as much of their scent on the bard as possible, something that had Geralt snarling good humouredly at them and throwing a lazy punch at Lambert’s head when the idiot went so far as to lick up the side of Jaskier’s face with a cheeky look at the rest of them. 

Jaskier knew they were approaching the right area first. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the strange feeling, as if his body was slowly being encased in sludge as he moved closer towards the point where some people had set up houses along a river bank. “Hey, I think we are in the right place. I don’t know exactly how I know this, but the water here is wrong. There’s something in it for sure that shouldn’t be, I can feel it all over my skin. Geralt, I hope you know that I am soaking in a bath for a few hours after this to try and get rid of this feeling, you better be prepared to be my personal water heater for me.” 

Geralt scoffed even as he looked at the bard in concern. “You can heat your own water, you useless fossegrim you. Does it feel painful? Do you need to go back and then we can go on without you?” 

Vesemir slapped Geralt gently upside the head. “Stop spoiling the lad, pup. He’s fine, if he listened to his bloody instincts more and actually read the books I had given him back at Kaer Morhen, he would have known to expect this. It isn’t enough to just practice appearing human, Jaskier, you have many talents you should have been working on. You can sense the health and purity of water sources in the same way that you can find them and manipulate them. You should be rather useful on this hunt and gods forbid you might even learn something.” 

Jaskier pouted at the older witcher and received no sympathy from the man. How rude, it wasn’t his fault that the books were so boring and made him want to curl up and have a nap rather than learning more about himself. “Fine, I promise that next winter I will spend more time with the books. Now can we get this done, I hate the way this water feels. It makes me feel ill and I don’t feel like decorating our shoes with the contents of my stomach today.” He sniffed haughtily to cover the way his stomach churned and stepped bravely towards the water. 

The closer he got, the stronger the feeling became. By the time they reached the houses he felt as if he was forcing each step through thick mud, the pollution and filth seeming to stick to his very skin. It felt unnatural, there was no way that this was just some refuse or dead animal getting caught in the current and fouling the water. “There is definitely one of your specialties here, boys. I’m of a mind to get violent myself, the poor river shouldn’t be subjected to this kind of treatment. Nothing should, it’s repulsive.” 

The younger three men looked at him in concern while Vesemir humed thoughtfully. “Can you tell us anything more about it other than that it is inhuman? Any sense of how long it has been in the water or how dangerous it could be?” Vesemir looked at him with such confidence that Jaskier felt he had little choice but to focus on the feeling and try to decipher as much as he could. 

“Um, well, it feels fairly recent. I would say it’s only been a few weeks at most and that the water has been getting steadily worse as time goes on. It feels malicious as well, like something is doing this deliberately to the water rather than it just being a byproduct of some creature living here. I’m not even sure that it is a creature, just that it’s not a naturally occurring problem.” 

Geralt slung an arm around his fossegrim, pulling him protectively against his side while glaring at Vesemir. “Don’t push him. He isn’t used to all of this, we shouldn’t make him go through this if it’s uncomfortable.” Jaskier loved that his dear heart wanted to take care of him like this, but this was a way that he could help them with their jobs and be a part of this large part of their lives. This was how he could prove to Geralt that he could be an asset when he went on a hunt, and hopefully it would help to assuage his fears of Geralt being injured on a hunt. The memory of that wyvern that Geralt had fought recently kept slipping into his thoughts and sowing the seeds of worry and doubt. 

“Geralt, dear heart. I appreciate the concern but I want to do this, this is something that I can do to help you all in a way that only I can do.” He brushed another kiss over his dear heart’s mouth in reassurance, taking a moment to rest with his forehead against Geralt’s and their eyes locked together before taking a deep breath and turning back to the river. “I think I can find the source of this if I just follow the icy feeling. I am writing so many songs about this feeling, it is really something else right now. And if whatever the hell it is that is making this feeling happen looks like it's making me feel right now, I am hiding behind the four of you and letting you all deal with it. There will be no heroics today, unless one of you gets into trouble and then I can’t make any promises.” 

Geralt and his fellow witchers laughed at the fossegrim and his disgusted yet determined expression, but Jaskier knew that if it looked like any of his bonded were in the slightest bit of trouble he would be most likely end up wading into the thick of it and getting his hands dirty. There was no way he was letting any icky monster or whatever the hell this was make any of his lovely darling people hurt, even if said lovely darling people were all witchers many decades older than him who were trained and mutated to be able to deal with these exact scenarios. It’s not like Jaskier ever claimed that his thoughts were rational and well thought through. He was a man of passion, gods be good, and he would live his life as such, monsters be damned. 

“Lead on then, Jaskier. You’re like our own little bloodhound. Does Geralt need to give you a scratch behind the ears if you do good?” Lambert teased. 

Eskel thumped him on the back of the head for Jaskier, shaking his head in disgust at his youngest brother. “See what you can do, Jaskier. Any help will make it easier on us, and there are four of us here so we should be able to sort this out nice and quickly before heading to an inn and catching up properly. I want to hear all about how you two sorted out all of your stupid ideas about how not being exactly what the other one is looking for and all of that. It’s better than paying to watch a play.” 

Jaskier frowned at Eskel. “And I was going to call you my favourite witcher for hitting Lambert for me. If I didn’t want to get this over and done with as soon as possible so that I can try and boil my skin off to get this sludgy feeling gone then you would be getting the beat down of your life, mister!” He stuck his nose in the air and strode off towards the river. He would find this stupid gross thing and watch his witchers issue the beating that it deserved for making him feel so digusting, then he would deal with his impertinent little puppies. 


	93. This muddied lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier finds the river and tries to find the source of the problem.

The more Jaskier focused on the river, the more he could feel. It was breaking his heart, the way he could feel the poor darling trying to continue to flow even through the choking disgusting mess that he could feel thickening the waters. He let out a strangled cry and managed to break away from Geralt’s protective hold, stumbling past the houses set up along the river without looking at them as his eyes were fixed on the awful brown colour of the water. He could smell human waste emanating from the water as well as a thick sense of menace that stole the breath from his lungs. He heard his witchers swearing and following after him, but he was too focused on reaching the water. 

He stood on the bank, ignoring the way that Lambert and Eskel had split off to start questioning people about what they had noticed. “When I find who has done this,” Jaskier hissed out in a tight voice, “I will make them feel the pain they have subjected this poor river to. How dare they!” 

Geralt rested a comforting hand on his shoulder but Jaskier shook it off. With a wordless cry, Jaskier launched himself into the water. He heard Vesemir swear loudly and say something about making sure that there were no witnesses, but Jaskier was not concerned with people seeing him. They should know about him and be afraid, maybe that would stop them from tormenting this poor darling river. 

As the water closed over his head he let out a small scream at the pain this river was in. He could feel just how much this awful presence was hurting it, taking something pure and lifegiving and twisting it so that it was a threat to the very people it wanted to nourish. He would not allow people to pervert such a gentle source of water. He felt the water boil around him, trilling out an angry refrain and revelling in the way that the water responded. He felt the sludge start to lift a bit as his magic infused the water and released a rather savage cry. 

He could feel Geralt wading into the water to find him but pushed that aside for a moment to better focus on the river. His witcher was fine and would wait, he needed to make sure that the river felt safe before he could set about distributing justice to those who would try to harm such a beautiful source of water. He kept trilling gently, patting at the water around him in an attempt to make the river feel better. He could feel Geralt standing over him now in a protective stance, good. He could help him to make the bastards who had done this pay, because he was sure now that this had the filthy fingerprints of idiot humans messing with things they should know better than to meddle with all over it. 

He surfaced once he felt he had reassured the river enough for it to hold out against the poison spreading through its delicate currents for long enough for him to fix this problem. Geralt immediately pulled him into his arms, burying his face against his chest and muttering for him to look a bit more human before someone came after him with a pitchfork. He hissed, digging needle sharp teeth warningly into Geralt’s arm before pulling back his human facade over his skin. 

“I will fucking kill them, Geralt, I will make their deaths a misery.” Even with his skin only human and his teeth frustratingly blunt, Jaskier exuded a supernatural violence that had Vesemir looking at him consideringly. 

“I know, I know,” Geralt said, sweeping a reassuring hand up and down the sodden bard’s back. “And we will all help you. You just need to let us know where it is coming from and then we can fix it.” 

Jaskier snarled to himself, pressing a quick kiss to the underside of Geralt’s jaw in thanks before pulling out of his arms and wading to the shore. “It’s some kind of curse, I can feel the taint spreading from up the river. I can find the source of the curse, but I will need you to find out who laid the fucking thing. The river does not deserve this, to be used as a way to hurt the people it wants to help.” Jaskier could feel himself panting with the force of his rage and watched at the water in the river seemed to ebb and flow in time with his breaths, the water threatening to spill from its banks with every outward breath. Geralt stood in the middle of the river for a moment, looking from the angry bard to the water and back before nodding and following his lover. 

Vesemir was standing just off to the side, keeping one eye on Lambert and Eskel as he surveyed Jaskier with a knowing eye. “Jaskier, lad, you need to make sure you are keeping a clear head here. I know how much this is hurting you, but you don’t want to let emotion cloud your thoughts and cost you the hunt. Rein in those emotions, little lark, and use them to your advantage rather than letting them consume you.” 

Jaskier nodded brusquely, turning his attention to calming his breathing for a moment before motioning up stream. “Grab the others, I want to get this done as soon as possible.” 

Vesemir nodded and whistled sharply, grinning viciously when Lambert and Eskel lifted their heads and turned to him instinctively at the sound. He gestured with his head towards Jaskier and they immediately moved to follow them. The four witchers trailed after Jaskier as he strode angril along the riverbed. He could hear Lambert and Eskel sharing what they had found, that a few weeks ago the water had started changing in colour and people had started sickening as they drank from it, but he was far too busy trying to use every sense he had to track down the source of the river’s pain. As he went further upstream it seemed to get worse, the sense of sickness and disease strengthening as well as the smell of human waste. 

It didn’t take Jaskier long to find the source of all of this pain and destruction. Only about ten minutes walk upstream he found what he had been looking for. The thing seemed to be constructed of various parts of birds that were in various stages of decomposing, as well as some herbs that made Jaskier wrinkle his nose in disgust. The whole thing stank of dark magic and made Jaskier want to get it as far away as possible. It was lying in the middle of the river, wedged between two large rocks to keep it in place. 

“Geralt, can you get this piece of shit out of this poor darling river for me? I can’t stand touching it right now.” Jaskier turned a pleading look on his witcher, not wanting the river to suffer for a moment longer than it needed to. 

The witcher nodded and strode into the water, wading against the current and then struggling to pull the disgusting thing out of the water. It was wedged in tight, the witcher needing to tug at it for a few moments to try and get it out. Lambert called out helpful suggestions about him needing to work out more if he couldn’t get a little thing like that out of the water, to which he got a rather rude gesture over Geralt’s shoulder. 

Once he had managed to pull it out, dripping in some awful black sludge that Jaskier thought was most likely the source of the contagion he could feel in the water, Geralt waded over to shore, holding the repulsive mass as far from his body as he could. As he moved towards them, the stench of death and disease increased, sending Jaskier into a fit of gagging. 

“The fuck is that thing? How could someone want to put this in such a beautiful, clean river? What is wrong with people, Geralt?” Jaskier was almost beside himself in frustrated rage. The water had never done anything to anyone, why would someone do something so vile to it? 

“People are assholes, Jaskier,” Eskel said comfortingly. He and Lambert crowded around the bard, trying to offer comfort with their presence. Vesemir watched the three of them with a small grin on his face. “That’s why we do what we do. We help people with the human monsters as much as the creatures.” 

Jaskier sniffed, glaring at the black mass as Geralt dropped it onto the ground. The slime oozing from it continuously started spreading across the ground, creeping back towards the water as if it were sentient. Jaskier snarled and quickly dug a trench between the object and the water to block its access. 

“I really hope that you can trace this thing, because I am very keen to enact some violence on whoever the hell has done this.” 

Vesemir sighed. “Magic of this sort leaves traces. We should be able to track it fairly easily. I doubt they would have placed this too far from where they constructed it, and magic like this will leave enough reverberations that we should be able to pick them up with our medallions. We will find this person for you, Jaskier, and we will help you to punish them as you see fit.” 


	94. I know your fingernails are the colour of rust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and the witchers find a clue.

Jaskier followed behind the witchers as they followed some trail that he could not see. They muttered between each other, pointing out different tracks and signs that they saw as well as how their medallions reacted to different directions. Jaskier was more than happy to let them lead, he kept glaring at the disgusting dripping mass Vesemir was carrying wrapped in some cloth Eskel had had in his saddlebags so that the sludge did not touch his skin. Jaskier was content to follow silently and seethe with anger, stoking the flames of his fury in preparation for them finding the person who had dared to try and pollute the river. 

It didn’t take them long to track the foul stuff back to a hut, slightly further away from the water than the others but still close enough to seem as if it was part of the small community that had established itself along the banks of the river. The four witchers all looked at each other as if in confirmation, nodding at the house and making little grunts at each other as if that passed for actual communication. Jaskier huffed and shoved his way between them. 

“Is this it?” he asked angrily. He was already glaring at the hut as if he could set it on fire with his mind. 

“Calm down, little lark,” Vesemir cautioned. Jaskier shook his head dismissively at his words and earned himself a quick clip around the ear. “Don’t go storming in without knowing the full picture. For all you know, someone else could have twisted the curse here and then run off, leaving some poor people to take the fall. If you are going to mete out punishment, you must make sure that it is the guilty that you are punishing, not just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

Jaskier hummed under his breath, paying just enough attention to Vesemir to make the witcher back off. He wasn’t about to let the people who had injured his poor little river in that way live without any consequences. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt hissed, pulling the bard around so that he was forced to stare into his golden eyes. “Calm down and listen to us. You don’t want to live with the blood of innocents on your hands, you know that you will never forgive yourself if you hurt someone who does not deserve it. You need to slow down and think. We won’t let anyone get away with what they have done, but you need to take the time to make sure the job is done properly. You give me grief for running into things without thinking about the consequences, now you need to listen to your own advice.” 

Bright blue eyes met amber, the blazing anger in them slowly freezing and turning hard. “Fine. We will do this your way. But once we find out who the guilty party is, I will be handling them.” 

The witchers all nodded solemnly at the fossegrim’s words before starting towards the hut. They spread out as they walked, the four of them looking for signs that Jaskier could never hope to see. After a quick silent conversation between them, Eskel and Lambert kept exploring around the hut while Geralt and Vesemir stepped towards the door, Vesemir knocking briskly at the door and calling out a cautious greeting.

The sounds of someone bustling around outside were clear even to Jaskier. The witchers waited patiently, with a less than patient Jaskier shifting impatiently beside him, until the door cracked open. 

“Can I help you?” muttered an old woman, almost bent double with age. 

Geralt shot Jaskier a look over his shoulder as if judging him from being so ready to kill an old lady like this. Jaksier sneered back at him, not willing to let his guard down no matter how fragile and doddering the woman seemed. 

“Sorry to disturb you, we have been looking into a few matters for the locals and wondered if you might answer a few questions for us. Just between you and me, some of the younger folk in the village were a bit ... how can I put this, flighty maybe, when we asked them for help. We heard that you were someone we could talk to if we wanted some sense.” Jaskier felt his eyes widen at the amount of charm that Vesemir was laying on here, but it seemed to work. The old crone giggled, raising a hand to touch at her hair as she smiled at Vesemir to expose the few remaining teeth she had. 

“Well, darling, I am more than happy to answer a few questions. Those no good scumbags in the village, hooligans refusing to listen to anything I say. Would you believe that some of them throw things at me when I walk through the streets, they all call me witch and act as if I am moments away from casting some kind of spell on them, foul little creatures.” 

Jaskier grinned triumphantly at Geralt and was quickly hushed, the witcher shoving him behind him to make sure that the old woman could not see the bard. This was proof and Geralt was trying to keep him from his revenge. He would not let them delay much longer. 

“That sounds awful,” Vesemir said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I can’t say that I am at all surprised, young people these days seem to have less and less respect for their elders. I’ve had to beat some respect into this pup of mine here,” he gave a quick smack to Geralt’s head, the younger witcher playing it up and looking properly browbeaten. “Are there any in the town that you think are particularly malicious? They may be the ones that we need to question further.” 

The older lady grinned up at Vesemir, pleased with all of the attention. “Oh, they are all fairly awful. Some of them have started throwing shit at my house and digging up my gardens. I had a beautiful herb garden, one I used to provide some small remedies for all the usual ailments that people suffer from. But no, now they have those fancy witch hunters lurking about the countryside making trouble and people think old Nan the village hag is somehow trying to kill them. If I wanted to, I am sure I could make them all suffer horribly, but I have no time to deal with their smallmindedness. There is one though, a young man who lurks around the town and seems to have as little friends as I do, who is sweet to an old lady like me. You might leave him out of your questioning, he would never get up to any mischief. He comes around here most days, asking me questions about my herbs and helping me in the garden. A sweet lad, I wish I knew more about him.” 

Jaskier poked Geralt in the back, brightening up at the news. This sounded like a rather promising lead, some young vagrant plotting to injure the village people in return for their usual bumpkin boorish manners. 

Geralt grunted, reaching behind him to smack at Jaskier even as Vesemir started making their apologies and readying to leave. After reassuring old Nan several times that he would talk to the people in the village about their ignorance, he turned to leave. Geralt trailed after him, tugging Jaskier along behind him even as the bard smacked at his back in excitement. 

Jaskier barely managed to hold his tongue until they had reunited with the others and were out of hearing of the old woman. 

“You all heard her! It has to be her or the young man, it must be. Creepy old lady in the woods, I’m sure she is more than happy to take revenge on all those poor people and hurt my darling river in the meantime. Tell me what’s next. Are we questioning the young man? Shaking down the others in the village to see what they know about sweet, gentle, murderous, old Nan? I want to see people pay for what they have done, Geralt, and I want to see it soon.” 

Lambert laughed at the fossegrim’s expression. “You are a rather bloodthirsty little thing. You need to learn to be patient, little bard. Good things come to those who wait and all that shit.” 

Eskel pulled Jaskier to his side, hugging the bard with one arm. “We won’t let them get away with anything, but you need to calm down. There is a process that we need to work through to make sure that we are not hurting the innocent. I know that once you are not this worked up you will be much more sensible, but for now you need to listen to us and allow us to reign you in. We can’t have you punishing people willy-nilly.” 

Jaskier snarled unhappily but acquiesced. “I will trust you all not to let these people go unpunished. I know you feel like I am overreacting, but if you could feel what this poor river is going through you would not be so calm about this all. We need to find out exactly who did this and make them pay.” 

Vesemir sighed impatiently at the fossegrim. “Geralt, you stay here and babysit this one and his itchy trigger finger. Idiot one and two, I can trust you to keep talking to the people in the village? Sniff out whatever you can about Nan and her young friend.” Lambert and Eskel both nodded, neither looking too surprised at the nicknames. “I’ll see if I can’t find our young man then, see what he knows. Shouldn’t be too hard to find him, his stench was all over her hut. You two can head to the river, see if you can’t heal it a bit more. If we can’t find who did this through our questioning, I am sure that we will be able to draw them out if they think that the river is recovering.” 

Jaskier nodded quickly. “Yes, we should look after the river more. Poor darling, maybe without that disgusting mess in it I might be able to clear it up. But hurry with your questioning, I am feeling a might ... stabby.” The fossegrim bared his sharp teeth in an angry snarl and felt his chest warm at the understanding nods of his witchers. 


	95. That wild blue yonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier returns to the river.

The witchers all split up, Geralt leading Jaskier back to the river. He didn’t have to try too hard to lead him, the bard was rather eager to get back to the water and see if he could help it further. Geralt chuckled under his breath at the fossegrim’s haste, ignoring the way Jaskier pouted at him over his shoulder even as he hurried faster to the water. 

“Come on, Geralt. The poor river needs me and you are taking your sweet time. We need to make sure the water is healthy so that we can draw out the sick asshole who thought they could get away with hurting something so pure and innocent.” Jaskier’s voice was light, excited. He could feel the water calling him, singing to him with just as much excitement as he felt at getting back to it. 

Geralt grunted under his breath, deigning to slightly increase his pace in response to Jaskier’s dramatics. They weren’t far from the river now, the witcher could see the water glistening in the sun just past the houses and noted the colour of the water. It was much clearer than it had been before, clearly Jaskier had managed to help it along and they would easily be able to use it to bait whoever had cast the curse. “The river isn’t going anywhere, little love. You need to give the boys some time to see what they can dig up before you start baiting your trap as well. We need all the information we can get before we let you lose, you violent thing.” 

Jaskier turned, pulled a face at his witcher's words, and then sprinted the last few meters to launch himself into the water. Geralt swore under his breath, following after him quickly and muttering curses under his breath as the fossegrim surfaced with a mischievous grin. 

“It feels so much better now that we have removed that ... that thing. Thank you, Geralt, I can’t tell you how much better this makes me feel.” The bard grinned up at his witcher, enjoying the way Geralt went slightly pink in the face at his praise and swung his hair forward to cover it. Jaskier beamed at delight in him when the witcher turned back to him. 

“Honestly, I don’t feel as much like there is some sludge all over me. The river only feels a little dirty, like it’s something that I can get rid of easily and then it will be as good as new.” He shot Geralt another grin before diving back under the water, singing to the river quietly to start cleansing it of the final strains of the curse. It was already doing it’s best to clean itself, the current running slightly faster than it usually would as it pushed the contagion downstream and thinned it out with the clean water coming from upstream. 

He hurried it along, adding his magic to the mix to help get rid of any trace of the curse that he could feel. He could feel the joy in the water as it responded to him, the way it clung to his skin and danced around him. This was the best part about being a fossegrim, the connection to the water that he had. It made him feel so powerful and connected to something bigger than him, a bigger high than performing in any pub had ever given him. 

He felt Geralt wade into the water beside him, trilling quietly and sending ribbons of water twining playfully around Geralt’s legs. He felt the witcher bed down and pat at his hair, preening like cat at the attention from the water and his lover at the same time. 

Geralt left him there for a few minutes, standing silent guard over him and refusing to react to the way that Jaskier played with the water around him as he cleansed it. Then he felt the witcher tapping his fingers on the top of the water, clearly trying to get his attention. Jaskier surfaced from the water, a small inquisitive sound escaping from his lips before he could rein in his instincts properly. 

Geralt smiled gently at the bard, pulling him up to his feet with one arm and waiting for him to steady himself. “Vesemir and the boys are back. They said that they have some things to talk about with us. Vesemir wants to head back to the inn, rest up for the night and then we can deal with it tomorrow with a clear head.” 

Jaskier made a confused noise, looking longingly back at the water, but Geralt shook him briskly. “Come on, you are more than your instincts, isn’t that what you tell me when I get all witchery and focused on my hunt. You can come back to the river tomorrow, but for tonight you need to rest and get a clear head to deal with this all.” 

Jaskier whined high in his throat, his fossegrim nature taking a moment to subside and leaving him feeling slightly more animalistic than usual. He clung to Geralt, allowing the witcher to pull him from the river and to the shore. He was handed off to Lambert for a moment while Geralt talked with Vesemir, happy to cling to one of his bonded if he wasn’t allowed to remain in contact with the river. 

“What have you done to the bard, Geralt? He seems a bit ... fragile.” Eskel looked concerned, peering at Jaskier over Lambert’s shoulder and smiling at the low hum Jaskier gave when he met his gaze. 

Geralt looked at his bard cuddling up to his two brothers and snorted in laughter. “He seems almost water drunk, the idiot was playing around with the water while he cleaned out the last of the curse and seems to have let his instincts take over more than he usually does. He was rather clingy, so I’m wondering if it is a mix of reacting to the trauma the river has been under and suddenly having all of us available for his bonds as well. Should make it fairly easy to get him back to the inn though, I don’t fancy your chances of getting him to let go of you for a while.” 

Lambert pulled a face at Geralt. “I’m so glad that you are happy with us stealing your man away so soon after you two finally confess your feelings for each other. Fuck!” Lambert exclaimed as Jaskier bit at his chest, hissing slightly at the implication that he could be taken like a prize. He was his own man, fossegrim, whatever, and he could decide which witcher he was with thank you very much. 

He knew that Lambert was only teasing, but he wasn’t going to let that shit slide. He had worked hard to win Geralt over, he wasn’t going to give his dear heart any reason to doubt his love. Lambert could joke all he wanted, but he was liable to become a chew toy if he kept it up. Silly man, he needed to learn boundaries, not that he expected any of his puppies to know how to respect them. The silly boys were far uncivilised, he would have to teach them some manners along the way, something he was more than happy to do. 

Eskel laughed. “Don't make jokes like that, Lambert, the little bard has fangs. Jaskier is all of ours, but we need to respect that him and Geralt have something special. You wouldn’t want to get in the way of it after all the pining and moping we had to deal with, would you?” 

Lambert muttered under his breath, pulling the protesting Jaskier into a hug. “He knows that I’m just joking. If he wanted to, he could have ripped out my throat. Jaskier knows exactly where we stand, don’t you, you angry little fish?” 

Jaskier nodded, baring his serrated teeth at Lambert in a vicious grin before peeling himself out of Lambert’s arms and jumping onto Eskel’s back like a limpet. The witchers laughed at him, Eskel holding his legs to keep him in place and passing the reins of Scorpion over to Lambert to lead while he carried Jaskier. “Let’s go. I feel the need for copious amounts of ale and a hot bath to celebrate. All the boys are back together and we have a mystery on our hands, what more could we ask for?” 

The witchers laughed, Jaskier letting out a musical trill to express his own amusement as he wrapped his arms around Eskel’s neck to hold on. He caught Geralt’s eye, the man watching him with an affectionate eye, and smiled softly. His witchers were a tight knit family and he knew how happy Geralt was that Jaskier fit so well with all of them. Jaskier was glad too, he had a family that he loved and adored and the most beautifully dangerous man in the Continent as his lover who was happy to help him protect the water that he felt so connected to. What more could a bard ask for?


	96. She pops out the blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer and Ciri arrive.

Jaskier looked around in confusion when his witchers were all grinning as they approached the inn. None of them would tell him what was happening, so he slipped from Eskel’s back and proceeded to storm dramatically into the inn, prepared to make them all regret not letting him in on whatever joke they were sharing. He was barely two steps into the room when he was almost bowled over by a small, blonde shape that launched itself at him in a hug. 

“Well, well, well. Look what the wolves dragged in,” Yennefer leered, reclining at the table they had occupied only that morning with a glass of wine in hand. She smirked at him, looking perfectly put together and at ease in a stunning black and white dress. He grinned back at her before looking down at Ciri, dressed in a matching outfit and clinging to him as if she hadn’t seen him in centuries. 

“Jaskier! We have so much to tell you! I learnt so many cool spells and Yennefer told me so much about all sorts of amazing things and we saw some amazing elven ruins and it was amazing but now we have the ball coming up and I am so excited!” Ciri babbled excitedly at him through her grin, almost tripping over her words with excitement. He returned her grin, hoping that his teeth were human looking and not still all pointy from all the excitement, and pulled her into his arms for a tighter hug. 

“My darling little lion cub, you look all grown up after just a few months! You will have to tell me all about your summer so far over dinner, I simply must know everything.” 

“And what am I, chopped liver?” Yennefer called, slowly rising from the table and sauntering towards them all. She grinned at the witchers over Jaskier’s shoulder, looking like the cat that got the canary. 

“Ah, the queen of darkness lives! Kicked any puppies recently, Yennefer?” Lambert teased, laughing when she flicked her hands and shot a small gout of fire at him in retaliation. 

Eskel shook his head and shoved his brother out of the way, moving to give Yennefer a hug. She looked surprised at the embrace, but returned it willingly enough. “Don’t listen to my asshole brother, you look radiant as usual, Yenna. I hope Ciri behaved for you?” 

“Oh, the girl is a pleasure to teach, but you all know that. So much power, so much potential, and the stubborn pigheadedness of her bloody grandmother. It made for a most entertaining summer. Now, I suspect that you four pigs have left all the planning for this ball to poor Jaskier, am I wrong?” She pulled back to eye each of them, smirk widening when none of them would meet her eyes. 

“Eskel and I only arrived today, Yennefer, and Lambert the day before. There has been far too much going on for us to worry about luxuries such as balls.” Vesemir was the only one brave enough to challenge the mage who looked like she was wanting to pick a fight, that combative gleam in her eyes. 

“Come on, honey,” Jaskier laughed, swinging Ciri around so he could hug Yennefer as well, crushing their little princess between them so that she giggled. “You know better than to expect anything else from these boys. There was no way they were going to willingly let me dress them up all fancy, I have to bribe them just to get them into a bloody tailors. Now, let’s get some food, it’s been a rather long day and I would prefer to discuss all of this over some nice warm food and drink or two.” 

Geralt had sidled into the room around them and seemed to have already ordered some food, he was sitting at the table brooding as usual while the owner of the inn started bringing out some bowls of stew and mugs of ale. 

“My knight in shining armour,” Jaskier teased, pulling Ciri and Yennefer to sit beside him at the table. He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Geralt’s cheek and had to stifle a laugh against his face when he heard Ciri’s shriek of excitement. 

“You kissed! Did you finally tell each other how much you loved each other and that all you want in life is to be with each other and travel the Continent together? Oh, I’m so happy, I told you Yennefer, I told you they just needed some time alone together to figure it all out. You have to tell me the whole story!” 

Jaskier sat back down, grinning at Ciri’s excitement and Yennefer’s badly concealed pleasure at the news. “Hm, well, I don’t know if I want to tell you anything after I hear all about how you have been betting on how long it would take us to get together. Rude people don’t get to hear all the nice stories.” 

Yennefer scowled at him, poking at his cheek in irritation. “Spill the beans, bard. I’m not exactly the patient type, as you all know.” 

“Later, Yenna, we have more important things to worry about. I need you to take over getting the outfits sorted for the ball, I left notes with the tailor I took Geralt to and got him sized up at, but I need you to take the other’s sizes in to him and have a little chat with the man about not using the crappy fabrics he kept trying to push on us. None of my witchers are going to a ball dressed in last season's cuts and you are Ciri are the only ones I can trust with this.” 

Ciri whined and Yennefer sighed. “Fine, but I expect a full gossip session later. I know that this lot can’t be trusted to choose anything halfway decent. I can create facsimiles of these three, that should allow the tailor to get accurate measurements. How much did you agree with him, I don’t want him to try and cheat me.” 

“Don’t worry about money, I have it all under control. I did a fair amount of singing this summer so that I can treat you all.” Jaskier puffed himself up in pride, happy that he was able to treat them all in this way. “You need to get yourself and Ciri measured up as well, I left some plans with the tailor for dresses for you both.” 

Ciri let out a small squawk of confusion and was hushed by Yennefer. “And just how much singing did you do this summer to earn that much money, bard? Or have you taken to picking pockets to line your own?” 

Jaskier frowned. “Don’t tease, Yenna. I wanted to do something nice for everyone, don’t try and cheapen it.” He took a mouthful of his stew, trying to glare her into submission. He could feel all four of his witchers watching the three of them with rapt attention. The idiots looked like they were expecting Jaskier and Yennefer to go for each other’s throats at any moment and were too terrified to step in. So much for big strong witchers, too scared of a little bard and mage to interfere. Hell, Lambert almost missed his mouth with his spoon, too busy looking between the two of them with wide eyes.

The mage narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance before turning to look at Geralt. “Just how hard did he work himself? You have to look after the idiot, Geralt, he doesn’t know his own limits and works himself to the bone trying to look after everyone.” 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Yennefer,” Jaskier hissed, bristling when the others ignored him. 

Geralt frowned at his mug. “He did manage to work himself hard enough that he caught a bloody human sickness, I had to spend a few days nursing him back to health before we could get back on the road. Gods, I even had to fish him out of a brothel at one point, some shit about them being one of the best paying establishments to perform in. Found him cuddled up in some asshole’s lap crooning sweet nothings in his ear.” 

Lambert and Eskel both burst out laughing. “Of course you did,” Eskel said, grinning at Jaskier. “Our bard is a free spirit, no way are you chaining him down.” Jaskier grinned back at him, glad someone else was taking his side here. “Calm down, Yenna, if the bard wants to treat us, that’s fine. It just means that we can shower him with gifts for the rest of the summer and he can’t complain.” 

That seemed to shut them up, all six of them looking like they were already mentally spending every coin they owned. Jaskier groaned in annoyance. “Stop it, you lot. It’s not the same if you all do it too, I just wanted to pay you all back for all of the lovely things you have been doing for me since we met.” 

Vesemir chuckled roughly at the bard’s annoyance. “And that is exactly what we plan on doing for you. You need to learn to accept everyone else’s appreciation of you, little songbird, not think of yourself as a burden that we need bribing to look after. Now, finish your meal and let’s see about renting rooms. You promised these boys you would look after their hair, and from the looks of it, they really need your help. You would think that I never took the time to show them how to clean themselves, the little heathens.” 

Ciri jumped up and down in delight, turning pleading eyes on Jaskier. Yennefer copied her in a much more dignified manner, still clearly hoping to get her hair done too. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll sort out everyone’s hair tonight. If my fingers fall off with all of the braids, I expect you all to keep me in comfort for the rest of my days. At least if I braid your hair back tight enough, Geralt, it should stay out of the way on our hunt tomorrow.” 

That had Ciri asking what hunt they were going on and he hurried her up the stairs, promising to explain it as he did her hair. It was nice having his two favourite women back, he felt like his family was finally complete. 


	97. Our devils broke rank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier follows a lead.

The next morning, Jaskier went down to breakfast with his darlings. Yennefer and Ciri both had their hair up in elaborate braids, while he had pinned Geralt and Vesemir’s back with sturdy braids at each side of their face keeping the rest out of their eyes. Lambert and Eskel were looking especially tidy as well, their hair not long enough for Jaskier to braid back but still being washed carefully and looking much healthier than it had before. Jaskier had tidied his own hair, using small braids to keep it out of his way and weaving several blue flowers that Yennefer had conjured into his hair to match those in his darling girl’s hair. 

“Now that we are all looking ravishing, it’s time for some revenge. Vesemir, you said that you had managed to track down that ... interesting individual that we were looking for. Did you learn anything?” Jaskier didn’t particularly want to talk about this in front of Ciri, not wanting her to see just how violent he could get, but he needed to know. It would have to be enough that she would not see him take his revenge, that she would be busy with Yennefer while he was making these people pay for what they had done.

Vesemir nodded, finishing the mouthful of bread that he had started. “I followed his scent, found the house he is staying in. Little creep is living on the outskirts of Oxenfurt in a little hovel, smelt like the one we want to. I could smell the dark magic on him from a mile away. Eskel and Lambert heard that he was a rather unsavoury individual, no one but Old Nan has any time for him and most see him as a low life thief. I didn;’t get close enough to question him, figure you would like to hear his reasoning for yourself before you decide what to do with him.” 

Jaskier bared his teeth, snarling as Geralt shoved some food into his mouth to hide the way his teeth glinted sharply in the light. “Calm down, love. You don’t want anyone seeing you like that in here. You will have plenty of time to get revenge.” 

“How sweet,” Yennefer drawled. “Pet names already. You must be special to him, Jaskier, I certainly got any pet names, at least not any that could be repeated in public.” She flicked him a teasing grin to let him know that there was no grudge held and he smirked back at her. 

“That is because you were being a spiteful hag at the time and were probably deserving of whatever names you were called. You two were not a good couple at all, always at each other’s throats, and I promise you I am not just being jealous here.” 

Geralt hummed and Yennefer nodded. “Geralt and I are far too similar, both too proud to ever let the other one win. It’s much better like this, you know when to stand your ground and when to fold and I get away from that horrific onion smell. We all win.” 

Jaskier laughed. “It’s not onion, it’s heroics and heartbreak and drama. Maybe a little onion, but it’s not that bad.” The witchers all laughed at Geralt’s resigned expression, clearly enjoying seeing him taking the teasing so well. “Now, we will go and deal with this ashole, as long as you two are happy to deal with the outfits. We only have a week until this ball you got us invited to, Yennefer, and I will not have you all looking like a bunch of paupers. I want to see my darlings looking as radiant as I know they are.” 

Ciri looked like she was about to protest but Yennefer quickly tweaked her ear. “Of course, we will make sure that everything is running smoothly. I would hate to see mother hen here upset that everything is not perfect for the big day. Come Ciri, you can finish eating later. We will leave the boys to their ridiculous ideas of revenge, we both know that there are much more sophisticated methods of making people pay.” She had the vicious look in her eyes again that made all of the men at the table shudder, even Jaskier knowing better than to challenge her about the name calling. Ciri looked rather impressed by Yennefer’s poise, darting to her feet before imitating the mage’s poise, her eyes looking just as scarily violent. 

“Have fun,” Eskel called after them, smiling as they both turned to wave coquettishly at them before disappearing out the door. He turned back to them with a serious glint in his eyes. “So, first we find this man and see what he knows, then we can start dishing out the punishment. Do we want to get going now, or is Lambert still shoveling food into his face?” 

The younger witcher snarled, shoving the last bit of bread into his mouth and chewing dramatically in his brother’s ear. “Now we can go,” he said after he had finished his mouthful. Jaskier burst out laughing at the resignation in Vesemir’s eyes as he watched his pups, glad that he could still find humour on a day that was about to be drenched in violence. His little pack was something special, always knowing just what he needed. 

The five of them left the inn, Vesemir leading and his pups surrounding Jaskier so that the bard didn’t know if he should feel protected or smothered. He chose to let it go, knowing that they were all just concerned for him, given that he was starting to feel that hot surge of anger rushing around through his body again like a tidal wave. 

It didn’t take them long to find the place that Vesemir had mentioned, it was a small shack on the edges of the city, looking like every other hole in the wall that Jaskier had ever seen. The witchers stopped just out of view of the place, turning to Jaksier to see how he wanted to handle it. He shoved past them all, barging into the house angrily and ignoring the way he could feel his boys following behind him like some kind of entourage. 

He slammed the door open, looking around angrily. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called in a sickly sweet voice. “I know you’re in here, I can feel the water in you calling out to me.” 

There was a small whimper from the bedroom and the sound of someone moving around cautiously. Jaskier bared his teeth and kicked the door open, grinning maniacally at the skinny young man who looked like he was seconds away from climbing out a window. “Boo.” 

The man let out a cry, falling back onto the bed and scrambling away from Jaskier. Protests were already dripping from his lips, assertions that he would never have done it, it must have been someone else trying to blame it on him, he was a good man really. Jaskier sneered, he had been expecting more from someone he could feel the residue of that dark magic humming in his veins. Jaskier was so focused on this man, his every sense tuned into him with the desire to make him pay, that he could feel the water inside every cell in this man and it stank with the black magic he had been performing. 

“Oh look at you, not even welcoming your guests. How rude of you. I guess we'll just have to make ourselves at home then. Lambert, be a dear and help our friend here to sit out at the table. I feel rather odd interrogating a man in his own bed.” Jaskier could hear the edge of violence in his voice and knew that later he would be terrified about it, but at the moment the black tide of anger had swamped him completely, leaving no space to question his own emotions. 

Lambert followed his request, grabbing the man by his arm and pulling him out of the bedroom to slam him down at the small table in the main room. The witchers crowded around him, looming over him with swords easel visible so that the man started shaking in fear. He seemed to know enough to keep his eyes fixed on Jaskier though, clearly knowing where the true threat was coming from. Jaskier pulled up his own chair, lounging in it lazily and fixing his eyes on the young man, studying his pockmarked face and sunken cheeks, the beady eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route. 

“Well well, my friend. I find myself in a rather interesting situation. You see, I found that someone has been using dark magic, I know, shocking right.” Jaskier flashed a mocking grin, baring his serrated teeth and relishing the way the man flinched away from him. “Anyway, they have been using dark magic to pollute a river close to Oxenfurt, to make a poor, innocent river choke in sludge and death and shit. Unfortunately for that person, I object to people using the water to carry out their dirty work, I really do. So when I heard rumours connecting you to my poor little river, I thought it would be for the best that we have a nice, friendly chat. So how about it, care to share?” 


	98. Pray for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier questions the man.

The man stank, Jaskier could sell that he had pissed himself with fear and was honestly not impressed with this spineless coward. He hadn’t even got to the questioning yet and he was already caving, how the hell was Jaskier meant to get his satisfaction from the punishment of someone who had caused so much pain and suffering if the asshole gave in at the very first threat? 

“My lovely friend, why don’t you tell me your name? I feel rather rude, sitting at your table and having a chat without knowing your name. You must remedy this, tell me your name and a bit about you, I am most curious as to how a charming fellow like yourself wound up in a place like this. It must make for a fascinating tale, and I do love a good story.” Jaksier kicked his feet up onto the table, making himself comfortable and enjoying the fear he could feel emanating from the young man. He could feel Lambert and Eskel doing a rather good job of lurking menacingly behind him, framing him like a pair of particularly dangerous bookends while Vesemir and Geralt prowled around, poking at his things inquisitively. 

“I promise, I never hurt anyone, please. You have the wrong person, I swear!” He was almost crying with fear now, snivelling pathetically as he cringed in his chair. He couldn’t seem to decide who to watch, but his eyes kept being dragged back to Jaskier, conscious that if anyone were to give the order to hurt him it would be the bard. 

Jaskier sighed dramatically, motioning at Geralt who slapped at the man’s head as he passed, snarling as he went. “I don’t believe that I have accused you of anything at this point. I just asked a friendly question here. I would suggest that you answer me truthfully, my companions here are rather sensitive to lies and might get a little grumpy if they hear any.” There was a loud growl from each of the witchers that had the man quaking again and the smell of piss increasing in the air. He smothered a chuckle when he saw Geralt’s face wrinkle in disgust. He should be used to disgusting smells given that he seemed more than happy to cake himself in the viscera of various monsters. But that was besides the point. 

“My, my name is Jorn, I, I, I’ve lived in Oxenfurt for the past four years. I promise, I have done nothing for you to worry about, please. I am just a poor man, down on his luck.” He kept looking at Jaskier pleadingly, desperate to convince Jaskier that he had no reason to hurt him. 

“Hm,” Jaskier hummed, lazily tapping a finger against his chin. “I would live to believe you, Jorn, I really would. Unfortunately for you, I can smell the dark magic dripping from your skin. The same dark magic that hurt that lovely river!” By the end of his little speech, Jaskier was leaning across the table and shouting in his face. He could hear Lambert making some rude joke behind him about Geralt needing to get a room after this display, but he had more important things to focus on than reminding Lambert to butt out of his sex life. “You left that horrific thing in the river, poisoned the water and left it in pain! You will tell me why, before or after I make you suffer, I’m not picky.” 

The man started shaking his head, a low stream of protestations of his innocence flowing from his lips like the sludge Jaskier had felt in the river. Jaskier snarled, letting out a sharp blade of sound and watching as the man screamed, clutching at his head like he was being stabbed. 

“I told you not to lie to me, Jorn,” he hissed. “I didn’t even need to check if that was a lie, it was written all over your face. Tell me, why did you curse the river?” 

Jorn moaned piteously, still clutching at his head. “You might want to let up on the sound-stabbing, little lark. He isn’t going to answer while his head is being split open like that.” 

Jaskier pouted, letting out a soft sound that ended the effects of his earlier call. “Fine, fine. No fun for me, that’s fine. Now, Jorn. Since I am not allowed to amuse myself, why don’t you try telling the truth this time? Hm?” 

Jorn looked at him fearfully, indecision in his eyes. Jaskier made a threatening sound in his throat and he caved. “You don’t understand, I had to do it. I had to find a way to make them hate her, to make them see what a monster she was. I thought that they would blame her and make her pay for all that she has done. You have to believe me! It wasn’t my fault!” 

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes over Jorn’s head, shaking his head in bewilderment. How the hell could someone think that using a river like this was acceptable, he would make this man pay for what he had done. Geralt sighed at him, his eyes cautioning Jaskier against immediate action. He groaned and looked back at Jorn, sulking slightly that his witchers would not let him have fun. 

“Tell me all about it, Jorn. Really lay out all the details, I would love to know just what it is that you think justifies hurting my darling river and risking the lives of so many in Oxenfurt. That water was getting rather dangerous, much longer and the curse would have built up so that just one sip would cause death. Not your smartest move, especially considering that the river flows directly into the main water source for all of Oxenfurt, so you would have ended up poisoning yourself, you idiot.” 

Jorn looked around again, like a rat in a trap. “It, it was Old Nan, you don’t know just how dangerous she is. She lures people in with the sweet old lady persona, but she’s a killer, I swear. You don’t know what she’s done.” 

Jaskier looked at Vesemir who was frowning in confusion. “Just what has Old Nan done? We had a chat with her, she had nothing but nice things to say about you. Apparently, you are the only one in town who is nice to her.” 

Jorn shook his head, a conniving grin stealing onto his lips as he leaned forward conspiratorially. He looked unhinged, something Jaskier watched closely while keeping up his feigned comfort with the situation. “I had to pretend, had to make her think that I was the only one on her side while I turned them all against her. You would too, if she had killed the very best thing in your life, you would do exactly what I did.” He cackled, seeming proud of his deception. 

Jaskier frowned. “What did she do to you? What could she possibly do to make you go so far, to make other people distrust her so much?” 

“She killed my Haley! She was meant to save her and she let her die!” Jorn collapsed into sobs, shaking the table with his gasping breaths. 

Jaksier looked at him in confusion. “You need to explain yourself, Jorn. How did she kill Haley? She doesn’t seem like someone who would do such a thing.” 

Jorn took great shuddering breaths, trying to calm himself. “Haley went to her. She was pregnant and thought the Old Nan would have something to help with the way that she kept throwing up all the time. She was suffering so much and just wanted it to stop. Old Nan gave her something, some herb, but it didn’t help, she just got worse and worse. I wasn't there, I was at a tavern and I was drunk and I should have been there but a neighbour called Old Nan when Haley started screaming, and when I got home, she was gone. My beautiful Haley was dead, our child was dead, and Old Nan was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t let her live, couldn’t let her continue hurting people, so I found a witch who could give me a curse. All I had to do was place it in the water and give it some blood, then it would poison the water. I blamed it on Old Nan, making her think that I was her only friend even as I got the locals to blame her for what was happening. She had to be stopped before she could kill again, I couldn’t let her kill my Haley and live!” 

“Describe what she gave your wife,” Vesemir said sternly, glaring at the man. “As much detail as you can.” 

“She gave her this plant with green leaves and yellow flowers. It smelt odd, kind of like garlic cloves, but sweet. It didn’t seem to taste bad, Haley was happy enough to eat it. But what does it matter what the witch gave her, she killed my Haley. She has to suffer.”

Vesemir shook his head. “Sounds just like mustard, a usual herbal cure for what it sounds like Haley was experiencing. Old Nan was trying to save your wife, sometimes there is nothing anyone can do.” 

“NO!” Jorn shouted, launching at Vesemir. “She killed her! She did! She killed my Haley and I wasn’t there to help her!” 

Geralt grabbed the man, forcing him back into his seat and holding him there. He was shaking, muttering to himself about Old Nan’s guilt. 

Jaskier felt the fury drain out of him. The man was clearly a mess, his wife’s death driving him over the edge. He couldn’t kill a man like this, no matter how awful he had been to the river. 

“Geralt?” he asked quietly. His witcher looked at him with warm, golden eyes. “Eskel, go and find the city guards. Tell them we have a criminal to pass over to them. He is no threat, his magic was brought so he will not be able to replicate it. Let the humans deal with their own, this is not our fight.”

Eskel nodded and quickly left the room. Vesemir stepped up to Geralt, taking his place holding Jorn down even though the man looked too consumed by his grief to cause much challenge. 

“You take Jaskier back to the inn and cheer him up. I can wait here for Eskel and Lambert can go and talk to the people out by Old Nan, make them see just how Jorn has warped their ideas. Look after your man.” 

Geralt bumped his shoulder against Vesemir’s before pulling Jaskier to his side and pulling him out the door. “Come on, you. Let’s get you back where Yen and Ciri can fuss over you.” 

“I almost killed him, Geralt, I almost killed a man who was too wrapped up in his grief to know what he was doing.” Jaskier’s voice was small and thready, shock seeping in as quickly as his fury had left him. Sweet Melitele, he had come so close to killing him. 

“We all make mistakes, Jaskier. The best we can do is learn from them. You didn’t kill him, you took the time to question him first and waited until you had all of the information before acting. I’m proud of you.” 

Jaskier took a shaky breath and cuddled closer to Geralt’s side as he walked. His lover was the best, knowing exactly what to say to him. Geralt could expect a rather clingy bard for the next few days while he processed it all. 


	99. Just to distract you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt comforts Jaskier.

Yennefer and Ciri weren’t at the inn when they returned, they must have still been busy with the tailor or were out exploring the city more. Geralt hustled Jaskier inside, barking orders for a bath to be drawn up in their rooms as he kept Jaskier close to his side. The bard cuddled close to him, allowing himself to be pulled up the stairs and into the room. A large copper bath was quickly brought in and the serving girls started appearing with buckets of hot water to fill it. Geralt ignored them, focusing on undressing the bard and rifling through their bags to find the herbs that Jaskier preferred to use in the bath if he had the chance. 

“Geralt, it’s fine,” Jaskier protested, trying to ignore the way that he swayed slightly on his feet as he waited. “I can bathe myself.” 

“Jaskier,” Geralt huffed, looking wounded. “Let me take care of you. You always look after me, this is my time to do the same.” 

Jaskier sighed, “Alright, dear heart. You can pamper me to your heart’s content. It has been a rather stressful day. I just, I feel wrong inside. I...” 

Geralt gave up his search for the moment and pulled Jaskier into his arms. “Wait for them to finish filling the bath, then you can talk freely. Just wait a bit more and then I’ll sort you out.” 

Jaskier nodded against his chest, sighing to himself and relaxing all of his weight against Geralt for a moment. “You are too good to me, dear heart. How did I ever get so lucky?” 

Great chuckled, the movement bouncing Jaskier slightly against his chest. “I don’t think you are the lucky one here. I get someone to wash all the monster guts out of my hair and sew up any wounds that I can’t reach. I think I was fairly lucky to find you.” 

Jaskier laughed, pressing kisses to the underside of Geralt’s cheek and grinning when the witcher let him with a rumbling sigh. “I think we were both rather lucky and should be grateful we have such fantastic friends who brought us together like this. Now, the girls are finished with the bath, are you ready to wait on me hand and foot?”

Geralt mock growled at him, picking him up and dumping him into the tub. “Alright you, shut up and enjoy the water. Do your little water twisting thing that makes you feel better and stop smelling like sadness and regret. It’s hurting my nose.” 

Jaskier turned to look at him in shock. “You can smell that much off of me?” 

Geralt looked in the bags again, hiding the way his face pinkened as he pulled out the herbs Jaskier used and sprinkled them into the water. “It’s a rather recent thing. I talked to Vesemir about it, he thinks that because we are ... us, my senses are more focused on you than usual. It means that I can smell intense emotions on you, not all the time but when you are particularly worked up. It could be a product of my extra mutations as well, Vesemir mentioned that it had happened to a few of the other witchers that we have lost, but never to the extent it seems to be happening to me.” 

Jaskier blinked in shock for a moment. He hadn’t been expecting that, it made him feel rather vulnerable and exposed, but at least it was Geralt that was able to sense his emotions so easily and not one of the others. “Hm, well, I suppose I will just have to focus on happy thoughts then to make sure I’m not smelling bad to you all the time.” 

Geralt growled, pulling out the soap that Jaskier used on his hair and quickly dunking the bard. He pulled him back up grinning as the bard sputtered, and started washing his hair for him. “You don’t need to worry about it. It’s comforting sometimes, like you are all of the emotions that they say witchers can never feel. Makes me feel ... less like a monster.” 

“Oh, dear heart,” Jaskier sighed, swiveling to press a quick kiss to Geralt’s lips. “If I am not allowed to call myself a monster then neither are you. We are more than what we were made, dear heart, and if I can help you at all then I will.” 

Geralt hummed, a small smile twisting his lips. “Turn back around. I was meant to be looking after you since you were the one who just had his first big moral dilemma on a hunt. Stop trying to turn this around on me.” 

Jaskier chuckled, allowing himself to be moved and relaxing again when Geralt’s rough hands started massaging the soap through his hair again. “This is me loving you, Geralt, I can’t stop trying to take care of you any more then you can stop brooding in corners. It’s a fact of life, dear heart, you will have to learn to live with it.” 

Geralt laughed, dunking him back under the water to rinse the soap out. “It's a good thing I figured out a rather easy way to keep you quiet last night, otherwise I would never get a moment’s silence.” 

Jaskier went bright red and went to protest, but Geralt chose that moment to start rubbing at the knots of tension in his shoulders and he melted into the water. Between the warm water dancing over his skin and Geralt’s hands, he was far too relaxed to say anything and found himself nodding off to sleep.

* * *

Once Jaskier had finally been pulled out of the tub by Geralt, the pair of them went downstairs to find the others. They were all sitting at their usual table, drinking ale and snacking on cheeses and bread. Ciri perked her head up as soon as Jaskier came into view, calling out to him with a mouth filled with food. 

He grinned, quickly moving over to sit beside her and press a quick kiss to the top of her head. “How was the shopping, little cub? Did you manage to keep Yennefer in line?” 

Ciri giggled, shooting a quick look at Yennefer before grinning at Jaskier. “Of course, I made sure that all of our outfits will be ready in time and that we will all look fantastic. Yennefer helped me choose the nicest fabrics and made sure that the tailor wasn’t cheating you with the prices. They were all so soft and pretty, I just wanted to touch them forever!” 

“I’m glad that you had such a good time, sweetheart,” Jaskier said, cuddling her close to his side before grabbing some food for himself. Geralt had claimed the seat next to him and was busy shoveling food into his mouth as if he was worried that Lambert would eat it before he could, so Jaskier leaned back against him companionably. “It should be a perfect night, thank you for taking care of the last few details for me.” 

Ciri smiled at him, stealing food from Eskel’s plate with a cheeky grin. 

Yennefer leaned across the table to talk to Jaskier. “How are you feeling? Eskel said that you had had a rather ... interesting day. You made the right choice, by the sounds of it, not the choice that I would make but most likely the right choice anyway.” 

Jaskier smiled weakly at her. “I hope so, I just, I let myself get carried away, let my emotions get the best of me, and I nearly killed a man. I almost killed him in a horrific and painful way and it was all because he hurt a river. I don’t even know if I would be as mad if he had hurt another person. Gods, I am an awful person.” 

“Shut your mouth, Jaskier,” Yennefer hissed. “Stop wallowing in self pity. You would have cared if he had hurt someone, you’re such a bleeding heart, you would have stood up for them in a heartbeat. You’re the best person sitting at this table, princesses excluded, so don't come crying to us that you’re some monster. I would have killed the asshole anyway, he was a risk to others and almost killed many, no matter what had happened to them that kind of risk isn’t something that humans have a great track record of containing. I’m sure Lambert would have done the same.” 

Lambert nodded, slapping at Eskel’s hand when his brother tried to steal more of his food. “Of course, something like that gets dealt with, permanently. I do have a reputation for charging in head first, I’ll admit, and it has ended up with blood on my hands that I probably should not have split. That’s the nature of the game when you set yourself up to be judge, jury, and executioner. You need to learn to not think about it, to stand by your choices and live with them. You made a choice based on your feelings of mercy and your innate kindness, never be ashamed of that.” 

Jaskier looked between all of the witchers, each nodding seriously back at him. “Thank you, all of you. As usual, you all know exactly what to say.” 

Geralt hummed, wrapping an arm around Jaskier tightly. “And as much as you are going to pretend to be fine to make us all feel better about it, I know that this is going to eat you up inside for a while. That’s alright, Jaskier, but just don’t try to hide it from me.” 

Jaskier pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and turned back to Ciri. “Now, you have to tell me all about your summer. Did Yennefer let you explode anything exciting?” 

Ciri started off immediately, gesturing wildly with her food as she explained all of the excitement of training with Yennefer. Jaskier smiled, letting Ciri’s enthusiasm for life distract him from his worries for the moment. 


	100. Take my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball is coming up

The days before the ball went fast. Geralt hovered over Jaskier, constantly keeping an eye on him and ropnig his brothers into various hijinks whenever the bard started to look like he was brooding too much. Jaskier’s personal favourite had been when Geralt and Eskel had managed to sneak up behind Lambert and cut a huge chunk of his hair off, something that had the witcher screaming and chasing them around the city with his swords. It had taken him several hours and many promised from Yennefer that she would be able to magically regrow it before he had to be seen in public before he calmed down, something Jaskier did not help with the way he kept laughing hysterically every time he looked at the witcher.

Still, Jaskier had been far too busy to dwell too much on how he had handled the whole river situation. He had spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure that their outfits were all ready and that he had found some fantastic accessories to go with them. He had also felt the need to return to the river several times, needing to reassure himself that it was doing better without the curse in it as well as just wanting to play around in the water, especially when he was able to rope the others into swimming with him. 

The day before the ball he had managed to get both Geralt and Ciri to accompany him on his trip to the river, bouncing with excitement and swinging Ciri about in his arms the whole way. 

“Come on, darlings, I want you to come and swim in the river with me today. I’m bored of always having to swim alone, you have to come and keep me company.” He pouted at Geralt, knowing that Ciri would be more than willing. 

The witcher hummed at him, a teasing light in his eyes. “Why would I want to get in a river with you?” 

Jaskier gasped dramatically. “Do you hear him, Ciri? He thinks he’s far too cool for us, that’s what this is. We should leave him behind, go swimming by ourselves and have so much fun that grumpy pants over here will just be seething with jealousy.” 

Geralt growled, picking up Jaskier and Ciri at once and running towards the river with both of them in his arms. The pair of them were screaming wildly and smacking at Geralt. He ignored them, sprinting right up to the river and charging straight in. Jaskier quickly wriggled out of his arms, twisting away and into deeper water, while Ciri screamed at the shock of cool water and started trying to climb further up Geralt to get out of the water. The witcher chuckled, dropping his entire body into the water so that she had nowhere to go. 

Jaskier was beside himself laughing as Ciri surfaced, spluttering indignantly, and immediately starting to chew Geralt out in her angriest princess voice. Geralt sent Jaskier a pleading look over Ciri’s head and Jaskier smiled back. He motioned quickly with his hand, a ribbon of water catching around Ciri’s ankle and pulling her under. She let out a short scream as she fell, so Jaskier ducked under the water and pulled her to him, a bubble of oxygen appearing around her mouth with another quick gesture. 

She glared at him before getting a devilish gleam in her eyes and pointing at Geralt. Quickly getting her idea, they both dove for a leg each, pulling at them and sweeping Geralt off of his feet so that he landed in the water with a crash. The three of them surfaced, grinning at each other. 

They spent several more hours in the river, playing stupid games and generally mucking around, before Jaskier surfaced again to see Yennefer standing on the bank of the river, tapping her foot impatiently. “Are you fish ever getting out of there?” she said, her eyebrows arched in amusement. 

Jaskier grinned, sending a quick stream of water at her and laughing when she glared at him. “Mm, might stay in here where I’m safe from the scary witch,” he teased. He was fully prepared to keep giving her shit, but Geralt suddenly grabbed him and started hauling him and Ciri out of the water, one under each arm.

“Let’s get these two fish back home. I’m sure we can make a lovely fish stew with the pair of them.” Ciri shrieked in delighted fear, squirming desperately against Geralt’s hold. “Might want to be careful with this one though, it still has a lot of fight in it.” 

Ciri’s shrieks of joy carried on the whole way back to the inn, mixed in with laughs from the three adults as they enjoyed seeing her so carefree. 

* * *

“Lambert! Get your ass in that outfit or so help me, I will hide your favourite sword where you will never find it!” 

Why the witcher had to choose the moments just before they set out for the ball to decide that he was going to be an absolute shit and act like a five year old that was being forced to eat their vegetables. 

“Jaskier!” Lambert whined right back. “It’s too flashy. You said that you wouldn’t make us wear anything ridiculous.” 

“You shut your mouth young man and put your clothes on. You do not look ridiculous, you look amazingly sexy and like I am going to have to spend the night fending off young men and women throwing themselves at all of my witchers. Now stop acting like a child and do what I say. Even Ciri isn’t making this much of a fuss.” Jaksier shoved the clothes back into Lambert’s hands and strode off to help Ciri with the fastenings up the back of her dress. Lambert muttered something about Ciri being a princess and being used to this shit, which Jaskier chose to be the bigger person about and pretend that he could not hear. 

Yennefer came barreling into the room looking for an earring that she thought she might have left in the bed, taking a moment to laugh at Lambert’s grumpy resignation as he dressed himself before drifting back out on a wind of lilac and gooseberries. “Vesemir said to tell you all that we are leaving in ten minutes. Do you need me to send Geralt and Eskel up to pass inspection, Jaskier, or do you trust Vesemir and I to have gotten them sorted out to your satisfaction?” 

Jaskier sighed, resisting the urge to wipe a hand down his face in resignation from fear of smudging the small amount of make up he had decided to use. “I trust your judgement, honey. Besides, after dealing with this one for the last thirty minutes, if either of them gave me any lip I might just bite their heads off.” 

Yennefer laughed at him before sweeping downstairs, Ciri quickly following her once Jaskier gave her one last look over and a quick “You look beautiful, my darling little cub.” He turned to look at Lambert, standing there with his tunic half over his head and his arms stuck up in the air. “I swear, Lambert, you are going to be the death of me and then Geralt is going to be seriously pissed with you. It’s just a fucking tunic, stop acting like it’s a pack of fucking ghouls or something.” 

Lambert sighed and let Jaskier help him, not able to hide his blush when Jaskier pronounced him “ridiculously good looking” and sent him downstairs. The bard took a moment to breathe and compose himself before following them all down. 

They looked beautifully dangerous all together like this. The witchers were in matching outfits of a crushed black velvet that was embossed with a beautiful pattern of snarling wolf faces. They each had a different colour for the stitching, something that made them seem like a unified front without removing their individuality. Yennefer looked resplendent in a rather dramatic number of black lace over a rather tantalising white slip, something that highlighted her various assets to great effect without actually revealing anything. Ciri was similarly dressed, her dress having slightly thicker lace in a dark blue to make it a tad more modest while still keeping it beautifully ornate. The dark sapphire blue of her dress matched Jaskier’s new doublet, while the embossed snarling wolves that decorated it tied him firmly to the witchers. The ornate lace around the cuffs helped to tie it to the dresses the women wore, and together they looked like the vision that Jaskier had been dreaming of for so long. 

“You all look so stunning,” Jaskier sniffed, doing his best to hold back tears at how proud of them all he was. 

Yennefer stepped up to him and lightly punched his shoulder. “Don’t cry, if you mess up the eyeliner that I spent far too long putting on you, I will make you pay. Come on, you can gloat over how attractive we all are later, if we don’t get going we are going to be more than fashionably late. No asshole in the Continent is ever going to say that Lady Yennefer of Vengerburg made a faux pas like that.” 

“Fine, fine. Let’s get going then. I would hate for us to make you late, my lady. Jaskier grinned at her and linked arms with Geralt. “You look dashing, dear heart. They managed to get the thread for the stitching rather close to the colour of your eyes. It’s perfect.” 

Geralt hummed and pulled Jaskier into his side. “And I am going to have to spend my night making sure that idiots don’t spend all of their time flirting with you. You did well, love, you even managed to get my asshole brothers to look semi decent.” 

Jaskier laughed at the way Eskel and Lambert immediately launched back with retorts of their own and the three of them descended into their usual childish bickering. Jaskier shared a fond look with Vesemir and stepped out with his pack to enjoy the finest Oxenfurt had to offer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people, this is the last proper chapter. There is going to be an epilogue tomorrow with the ball, but for this story this is the ending point. I hope you have enjoyed the journey so far and enjoy the epilogue tomorrow!


	101. Epilogue: Sweet nothings are screamed not spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his friends attend the ball.

The ball was spectacular, women and men in elaborate outfits everywhere and decadent morsels laid out across tables that almost groaned under their weight. The witchers had all taken one look at the food and started whining, apparently deciding that the food provided at such events was never actual food and was instead just a tease. Jaskier shushed them, Yennefer promising that she would show them where they could get some real food later on in the evening as long as they behaved. 

With only a few more grumbles, they complied, Vesemir in his black outfit with dramatic silver trimming slipping away to begin talking up some rather distinguished looking women, while Eskel and Lambert, their dark clothing edged in green and red respectively, quickly found a group of young men who looked like they would much rather be fighting then dancing and quickly disappeared into their midst, claims of their more outrageous hunts being shared around within moments. 

Jaskier grinned at his remaining companions, ready to enjoy the evening with his favourite people. Ciri was almost vibrating with her excitement, trying desperately to maintain the calm and composed facade that she had been trained to adopt since birth. She sent pleading looks to the three of them, using the puppy eyes that Jaskier had helped her to perfect on Geralt and Yennefer to great effect. 

Yennefer sighed and nodded regally. “Enjoy yourself, little cub. But I expect you to remember to conduct yourself appropriately to my daughter and your station, Fiona.” 

Ciri huffed impatiently, nodding at everything Yennefer said before hurrying off into the crowd. Geralt called cautions after her for her to watch out for wandering hands and received a rude gesture over her shoulder as she went. She attracted the attention of several bored looking youths, all seeming to recognise something in her which drew them to her like moths to a flame. She looked like the leader she was meant to be, her charisma evident as she immediately started holding court in a corner of the room. 

Jaskier laughed at Geralt’s worried expression and knocked his shoulder against the witchers. “Let the girl have some fun, Geralt. She’s more than capable of looking after herself, and there are enough of us in this room that will leap to her defence if needed, she’s perfectly safe. Besides, she needs to let off some steam, dance with some pretty boys and girls and break a few hearts.” 

At Geralt’s renewed concern at the mention of possible romantic adventures his Child Surprise could be getting into, Jaskier scowled and pulled Geralt down for a quick kiss. “You should be far more concerned with keeping me entertained tonight, anyway. This is our chance to enjoy ourselves, dear heart, not another evening for you to spend scowling in a corner.” He glared his witcher into submission, smoothing the frown lines from his forehead with a gentle hand. 

Yennefer laughed at the pair of them. “I’ll leave you two to it then. There are a few mages here that I intend to catch up with. They are all spreading some ridiculous rumours that I must be engaging in rather elaborate orgies with all of you witchers in order to fuel my magic for whatever plans they think I have. I believe that I shall fan the flames of rumour a little bit. Don’t worry, Jaskier,” she teased with a quick ruffle of his hair. “I’ll make sure that I mention that your talent for music is a rather integral part of my plans, can’t have them thinking that you are getting left out of all the fun.” WIth a lascivious grin at the pair of them, she slipped off into the crowd towards some stunningly beautiful people all gathered in a corner leering at the rest of the partygoers. 

“Uh,” Geralt said awkwardly. “Do we need to stop her or do we let it happen?” He looked wary, clearly imagining all kinds of stories that Yennefer might be telling them and worrying about what kind of trouble she might get them all into. 

Jaskier thought about it for a moment before grabbing Geralt by the arm. “Leave our devious mage to it, I am sure that she can handle those charlatans with one hand behind her back. She is the great Lady Yennefer of Vengerberg after all. It would be a much better use of our time if we show these bumpkins how to dance. I want to hold my big scary witcher close and know that everyone in this room is jealous of me, that they all wish that they could take my place. Are you willing to indulge me?” 

Geralt grinned, ducking his head to press his lips against Jaskier’s. “Of course, love. You do know that I hate dancing, so you will be the one leading and setting all their tongues wagging.” 

Jaskier laughed, towing his witcher towards the dance floor. “But of course, we have to give them something really worthwhile if they are going to gossip. How many of these fancy ladies do you think I could get to faint if I start dancing with you like we did at that village revel we visited on the way to Oxenfurt?” 

Geralt growled at the reminder, pulling Jaskier’s body against his and guiding him into the rather formal dance that everyone else was already performing. “If you don’t stop talking like that, I am going to end up doing something that will make them more than faint. Mind your tongue, bard, and focus on your dancing. If you play your cards right, we might have to slip away from the others later tonight for our own private party.” 

Jaskier shivered at the witcher’s dark tone, slipping slightly closer to Geralt than was strictly appropriate for this kind of dance. He looked around the room to check where his family was. Vesemir was standing with a wine glass in hand and ladies snuggled up to either side of him while he entertained them with a rather dramatic looking story. Eskel and Lambert looked as if they had already sampled the drinks a fair amount and were trying to dance with each other, both trying to lead and tripping each other up as they went. Ciri was holding court in a group of young people, dancing with them and flitting from partner to partner with a gleeful expression. Yennefer was draped luxuriously across a couch against the wall, displaying all her assets to their best advantage as she talked to a group of scandalised looking sorcerers. She saw Jaskier looking and winked, sending the mages with her tittering with excitement. He grinned back at her before turning to bury his face against Geralt’s chest, sighing with contentment as his witcher took control and steered them effortlessly across the dance floor despite his complaining that he hated dancing. 

“This night is perfect,” Jaskier breathed against his lover’s chest. Just about everyone he loved was all in the same room, enjoying themselves and savouring the best that the city had to offer. “I wish we could just stay like this, forever.” 

Geralt chuckled, pulling Jaskier even closer. “No you don’t. You would get restless if life was always like this. You need the drama, the excitement of the road, just as much as we do. It’s a good night, Jaskier, a night we can pretend is our perfect fairytale before we enjoy every moment of our normal lives. Together.” 

Jaskier hummed, lifting his head to smile softly into Geralt’s warm gaze. “So true. I thought I was the poet here, but you do paint a lovely picture.” 

Geralt blinks, a sudden nervous light edging into his eyes. “We could make this fairytale one to remember,” he said, his voice cautious. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let’s sneak out, find a druid or a priest, get handfasted. Make this night something really special, here with our family around us. If we are truly sneaky enough, we could go, be handfasted, and then be back before they even notice. See how long it takes them to realise.” 

Jaskier did a quick double take, trying to see if Geralt was merely joking with him or if he was serious. The witcher stared back seriously, those emotions that he denied having plain for all to see in his beautiful golden eyes. His heart in his throat, Jaskier nodded, blinking tears from his eyes. 

“Sweet Melitele, that was far more romantic than it should be. FIne, yes, yes. If you can sneak us both out of here, I’ll handfast with you, never leave you, love you always.” He wrapped a hand in Geralt’s thick hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. The pair stood in the middle of the dance floor for a long moment, pulling back to stare at each other and ignoring the people glaring at them as they had to dance around them. 

“If we sneak out after this, the others will just assume we snuck out for a quick fuck. Should buy us some time,” Geralt mused, grinning in excitement. 

Jaskier matched his grin. “Let’s go, dear heart, I can’t wait.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has gone on this journey with me! You have all been amazing and your comments have been the main reason that this story became the huge work that it did. You have all been amazing and I am so thankful for all of your support and your willingness to laugh over these darling characters. I will be back at some point with a new fic, I think I've caught the writing bug now, but first I'm going to take a little break. If you have any ideas for new witcher fic ideas or want to chat, feel free to message me or chat on tumblr at edmundbunnycorcoran.tumblr.com/ See you all in the next one!!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome. This is my first go at writing fic, so please be gentle :)


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